


The Fostered

by ekreider



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya and Sansa are fostered, Arya can't keep her mouth shut, Arya goes to bear island, Badass Arya, Badass Sansa, Gendry loves it, Prince Gendry, Sansa goes to Highgarden, Sansa's up to something, Sisterly reunion, all direwolves alive, but also definitely not, don't hate on the Stark sisters, if you know what i mean, slowburn gendrya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekreider/pseuds/ekreider
Summary: Instead of going to King’s Landing with their father, Sansa fosters at Highgarden while Arya fosters at Bear Island. Years later, after the Lannister bastards have been removed from the line of succession and the king’s bastards are brought to take their place. Prince Gendry meets a wolf with bear claws.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 107
Kudos: 426





	1. More Than They Bargained For

Margaery and Lady Olenna stared at the envelope in Sansa’s hand. They had watched the young woman open and read the letter, only to replace it back into its envelope as if she could not stand the sight of the writing.

“I reckon it’s time then?” Lady Olenna asked.

Sansa masked her face, pulling herself into the posture of a polite, obedient woman. “Yes, I believe it is.”

Margaery deflated, “Oh, Sans.”

Lady Olenna leaned forward and stared into the eyes of a wolf, “You know what you must do now. There is no way around it.”

Sansa nodded. She had always known this day would come and had prepared for it. She stood, gathering her skirts, and curtsied to the two ladies.

“If you’ll excuse me. I have letters to write.”

(*&*)

Arya,  
I know that you have received the news by now. I know that you have been summoned the same as me. I beg you not to fight it. I beg you to come to King’s Landing. I know that coming gracefully is not in your blood, and I know that you are needed in the North. Still, I need you. 

Leave Lyanna. Just for a little while. And we will figure out a way to get you to her again soon. I know she is young and scared as the new lady of Bear Island. I know you want to be there to protect her and lead her to who she should be, but I cannot do this alone.

She may need a friend, but I need a sister. As the oldest, I’m the one who must go, but I need you and your sword behind me.

I cannot marry Prince Gendry without my sister to lean on.

Please do not fight this battle. I need you to help me fight mine.

Love,  
Sansa

“She wants you to go,” Lyanna whispered.

Arya looked up from the letter and smoothed her hand over Lyanna’s hair, “Yes, little bear.”

She ripped up the letter, “The rose is in need of a good pair of claws.” She threw the letter into the fire beside her and watched as the flames grew and devoured her sister’s vulnerable words. “And I’m bound to give her some.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Lyanna stepped closer to her friend, her feet moving soundlessly over the cold, stone floor.

“I don’t want to leave either,” Arya looked around the circular hall and all of the bear skins spread across the walls, “This has been my home for so long now that sometimes I can only picture Winterfell in my dreams. But the people….I’ll never forget the people. And Sansa is one of them. She may not have been the best sister in the past, but….”

“But?”

Arya smiled at Lyanna, “But a wolf protects her pack. And a bear protects her young.”

Even then, Arya could feel her heart sinking. 

(*&*)

Sansa had long ago learned the power of a good entrance. She knew that the clothes she wore, the sounds she made, the words she whispered all held the amount of strength that could either make or break her entire reign. She also knew that the people who accompanied her could just as easily capsize any power she had. So, she chose to come into the throne room alone, ahead of the rest of the Tyrell congregation.

She was a Stark after all, and she would represent them. Lady Sansa Stark would appear for the first time in Court as a proper, dutiful lady of the North, dressed in the Northern style and sporting a direwolf at her side.

When the doors opened to the throne room, she walked gracefully in, making sure not to look at anyone but the man seated on the throne. Though she longed to turn and look at her future husband, she knew that she had to appear like she had one, single goal: to please the king.   
As she approached, people moved out of her way. They were scared. Still, they made sure to follow her progress with their eyes. 

She knew the pair that she and Lady made. She knew that they were a contrast. A lovely lady, prim and proper, dressed in a silken grey gown walking alongside a deadly beast the same size as her. She knew that Lady was one of the smallest of the Stark direwolves. Arya had told her that Nymeria was now a head taller than her and that Arya could ride easily on her back. Still, Sansa knew that the Southerners had never seen a wolf as big as Lady.

Sansa neared the throne and sunk into a graceful curtsy, “Your Grace.”

King Robert bellowed, his whole belly shaking, “Ha! Look at her, Ned! A perfect girl!”

Lord Eddard Stark smiled at his oldest daughter, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Rise, girl! Rise!” King Robert stood from his chair, marching down the steps to grab her face in his hands, “You were the one that was supposed to marry Joffrey, weren’t you?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“And you know what he was?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Ah!” King Robert let go of her face, “A pity.”

He stomped up the stairs, “Fine. We’ll keep her as an option. I still want to see the other one.”

Suspicion stirred in Sansa, “The other one?”

The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them, and right away she could see her mistake. The king turned to look at her again. The lords and ladies around her shifted in their place.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I only meant…”

Sansa looked to her father for help.

Lord Eddard Stark grimaced, “It’s only natural, Sansa, that you would want to protect your sister. The king only wants to make sure that his son gets the right queen by his side. He wants to choose between you...and Arya.”

Sansa’s heart stopped. She thought back to the letter that she had sent to her sister and the letter she had received almost immediately back. Arya had told her sister that she would ride, and that she would ride hard to King’s Landing. Did she unknowingly lead her sister into a trap? Did Arya think that she knew? She thought back to the letter that Arya had sent back. Her sister had not mentioned a word of this to her. Did Arya know?

“I see. That is very smart of you, my king.”

A snort came from the side of the throne, and, for the first time, Sansa took a good look at her (now potential) future husband.

Ned cleared his throat, “Sansa, this is Prince Gendry, first of his name, heir to the Iron Throne.”  
Sansa curtsied again, “It’s very nice to meet you, Prince Gendry.”

She made sure to hold Prince Gendry’s eye contact, even as her head was still spinning from the new information.

The prince only nodded to her.

“I’m sure you’re tired, Sansa,” her father said, stepping down from the pedestal, “I’ll take you to your room.”

“Thank you.”

King Robert cleared his throat, “The beast. It can’t roam around. It will need to be tied up in the stables.”

Ned turned back to his friend, “I’m not sure that Lady--”

Sansa butted in, “Lady can stay in the stables, Your Grace. I’ll make sure that she behaves.” 

King Robert smiled, “Excellent! I knew that Ned’s daughters would be just like him. Honorable and accommodating.”

Sansa smiled shyly. If only he knew.

Her father led her out of the throne room, and once they had stepped into the daylight, Sansa walked Lady over to the stables.

“Sansa,” Ned said, “I know that this is a surprise with Arya. I tried to talk Robert out of it--”

“We should talk about this somewhere else.”

Ned frowned, “I swear to you, Sansa. I got every enemy out of this castle when the Lannisters were brought to justice. There is no one here that would harm you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Sansa whispered as she held the stable door open for Lady, “Either way, it’s not why I want to wait. I want to wait so that we can get somewhere private so that I can yell at you.”

Sansa guided Lady into an empty stall, petting her direwolf as her father stared at her. “Yell?”

Sansa turned toward her father, “Your solar is a good place, I presume?”

Ned Stark led his daughter to the Tower of the Hand and up the winding staircase. It was only after he had sat down in his chair behind his desk that Sansa let her proper mask drop. 

“Please tell me why I am not designing my wedding and why I am in a love contest with my own sister over the king’s bastard.”

“Sansa--”

“No, no. You know, I don’t think that you could come up with an excuse because this, this is just mad. You have put Arya and I in a horrible position, and now you expect both of us to do the king’s bidding, bending to his whim whenever he deems it desirable. Have you even thought of what Arya will do when she finds out? How she’ll react to having to dress up pretty and please the lords and ladies?”

“I had no choice in the matter.” 

“We’re your daughters. Of course you have a choice.”

“No, Sansa. I do not. The same way I did not have a choice when Robert decided that you would be betrothed to Joffrey. The only choice that I had then was to send the two of you away from the Capitol, especially when your mother insisted that you both come with me. I can’t send you both away this time. I can’t make up an excuse why you both would not come to see your betrothed.”

“Why is Arya even a consideration anyway?”

Ned slid his hands down his face, “You being betrothed to Joffrey led to some people doubting whether or not you were still loyal to him. They thought that you might try to sabotage Prince Gendry because you were once betrothed to the man he replaced. The king thought that a fresh match might be good for the kingdom, and then he started hearing stories about a wolf and a bear in one.”

“He heard stories about Arya?”

“Yes, about the battle between House Mormont and the Ironborn.”

“The one that killed Lady Dacey.”

“Yes, apparently Robb came to help put the rebellion down, but by the time he got there the rebellion had been killed in its infancy and your sister had killed ten times as many Ironborn as the next man.

“The story says that by the time your brother crossed to the island, all of the bodies had been burned and your sister was sending out order after order helping people rebuild.

“Robert thought that she might be a good fit for Gendry on the throne. The lad has a good head on his shoulders and a good heart besides. But he lacks any governing or battle experience. Your sister has both.”

“She’ll never agree to marrying him.”

“That’s what I told King Robert. He told me that I would make her if he thought that she was what the kingdom needed.”

“And do you think that this kingdom needs her, Father?”

Ned sat back, “I think she got more out of her fostering than anyone bargained for. I think that she would be a great ruler. But I also think that the kingdoms need stability and a nurturing hand. I’m not sure if she could give them that. I’m also not sure that the lords and ladies would tolerate a woman with Arya’s wildness. Or Prince Gendry for that matter.”

Sansa stood from her seat, “I suppose that we will learn.”

She left the Tower of the Hand just as Margaery was walking towards it.

“There you are, Sans. We just made our introductions to the court-- What’s wrong?”

Sansa studied Margaery, “We may have a wrench thrown into our plans.”

Margaery looked up at the Tower, “Is it one that we can handle?”

“Possibly. After all, I got more out of my fostering than anyone bargained for.”


	2. One Last Shot at Freedom

“One more,” the eighteen-year-old girl at the end of the bar said, holding up her empty goblet. Her hair spilled down her back in one long, dirty plait, and her face was still covered in dirt from the road. Her clothes stunk and had peculiar stains on them. She looked like she had had several days of hard riding. By the flush of her cheeks, days of riding had not been the only thing she had had several of.   
The black-haired man in the plain, white jerkin that sat next to her looked like the ale in his hand was not his first as well. He also could not help but stare at the girl.  
“Can I help you?” the girl asked, whirling on the man. “Honestly, do you stare at every woman like that?”  
“I was not staring!”  
“Yes, you were, Stupid.”  
The man let out a startled laugh, “Stupid? You don’t even know who I am!”  
“I don’t need to know anythng about you to know that you are stupid. Are you dense too?”  
“No! I’m just wondering why you look like absolute shit.”  
Her face twisted as she turned back to the bar, “Fuck off, I just rode a beast for twenty days straight.”  
“You could ride me for longer than that.” his voice was slurred, and he looked shocked by his own forwardness. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to...”  
The girl's face snapped back to the man’s. Something in her grey eyes flashed. A sort of recognition to the challenge in his voice and a challenge to everything she had been taught. Her tongue flicked out over her lips. She did not need to look close to see that the man had more mass to him than most knights, and a glance down showed her capable hands from years of some craft. The man was definitely from Flea Bottom and was probably around the age of an apprentice. He was a brooding type, but he wasn’t bad to look at.  
She leaned forward, “Look, I have only a short time of freedom left before my life changes forever. I have one night before I have to be good for everyone I know and everyone I don’t. And, by the look on your face, you did not mean to say that, but you did mean it. I can’t give you everything. I still need my maidenhead, but everything else….”  
The man smiled, “Does the rest of you have that awful smell?”  
“Undoubtedly.”  
“Do you have a place to go?”  
“I have a room upstairs.” she answered.  
“What can I call you?” he asked.  
She seemed to think about it, “Nymeria. You?”  
“Let’s just go with: Bull.”  
“Like the animal?”  
He smiled at her, “Like the beast.”

(*&*)

Lady Olenna stirred her tea. It was late at night, but this was the only time such plans could be whispered about when no one would hear them. Her and her girls had done many nights like this before, and would probably do more by the time that all was done.   
“Have we made any progress with the prince?”  
Sansa shook her head, “I’ve tried everything. Everytime I get him to go for a walk with me, I get one word answers. I’ve tried everything with him. Nothing.”  
Lady Olenna made a sound of discontent. Sansa shifted, “I really have tried everything. He’s just...upset about this whole thing. I can’t get him to stop brooding over everything. I think he’s just resigned himself to having to marry, but he’s not willing to try to get to know me. He probably won’t want to get to know Arya as well.”  
“This, my dear, would be a lot easier if we knew what your sister’s thoughts were. If we could meet with her and get a plan, all of this would be much, much more productive.”  
“She should be here any day now. She’s travelling alone. And on a direwolf. She should make good time.”  
Margaery hummed, “Yes, but would she even agree to meet with us is the question. She does not seem like the type of girl to make plans from your stories.”  
Sansa shrugged, “She could be a completely different girl from the one I knew. For all I know, she could want to marry him now.”  
Lady Olenna leaned back in her chair, “Well, we can’t possibly trust her with our secrets without knowing that we can trust her. And we don’t know what she knows. It will be our job the first couple of days to find that out. We need to figure everything out before we start to make a plan. Is that understood?”  
The two girls nodded.

(*&*)

Nymeria’s eyes were glassy by the time Bull climbed back up her body to lay down beside her. She let her head roll back as the last shudders rolled through her body.  
The Bull smiled at her, wiping her hair away from her face as her eyes came back into focus. “I should probably go. People will probably be looking for me.”  
But Nymeria did not want him to leave. She wanted him to stay, at least for now. She did not want to spend her last night of freedom alone.  
“Or...I have another bottle of wine.”  
Bull hesitated, weighing his options in his head. He shook his head, “I probably should go. People will be looking for me if I’m not back soon.”  
Nymeria’s heart sank to her stomach. But he had gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? At least, he had gotten as far as she was willing to let him. He had gotten her hands and mouth, her gasps and moans. He had gotten to satisfy his curiosity of what was under her smelly clothes and dirt.   
“Of course. Right.”   
She watched him climb from her featherbed and gather his clothes. His jerkin had fallen by where her sword was propped up by the door and he picked the weapon up instead. “Is this yours?”  
Nymeria glanced at the sword. She could have said that it wasn’t hers. She could have said that she was holding it for a friend or that she was taking it somewhere. The sword told too much of who she really was for her to want him to ask questions about it.  
But then again, how would he be able to put the pieces together? He was an apprentice. Stories of her had not reached this far yet, had they?   
She gathered the sheets around her as she sat up in bed, “Yes.”  
His clothes dropped back out of his arms as he walked naked back over to her, his eyes still trained on the short, skinny sword wrapped in its scabbard, “May I?”  
Nymeria nodded.  
The sword made a sound of silken steel as he removed the scabbard and placed it gently on the bed. Nymeria watched him examine the sword, running his hand along the blade and testing its balance.  
“You’re a blacksmith, aren’t you?”  
Bull smiled softly to himself, “In a past life. This is Valyrian Steel, isn’t it?”  
“Yes.”  
“Does it have a name?”  
“Bear’s Needle.”  
He glanced at her, “That’s an odd name.”  
Nymeria shrugged, “I used to have another sword when I was younger. It’s name was Needle. But then I grew out of it, so I had it melted down and its steel was used to make this sword.”  
“And the Bear?” the Bull asked. He showed her the pommel, where a direwolf was carved onto its head, “That’s a wolf.”  
“It is. The Bear part of the name was because of where it was made.”  
Bull’s mind seemed to be whirling, his scowl showing how hard he was thinking.  
He replaced the sword and shook his head, “You know. I think I will take that drink.”  
Nymeria smiled slyly.  
They ended up staying up late. They sat passing the bottle between them talking about everything except who they were and where they came from. They talked of how bloody hot it was getting, of politics, of the noble families. They talked of the places they wanted to see and whether or not the whispers of the Dragon Queen were real. They got tipsy enough to go for another round of gasps and moans, her finding a spot on his neck that made his hips jump and him finding her ticklish spot on her stomach.  
Once they had finished that bottle of wine, they drunkenly ran through the streets of Flea Bottom trying to find another one. The only thing that kept robbers away was Nymeria’s firm grip on Bear’s Needle. He showed her the forge that he used to work before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the old tavern that his mother used to work. This was the place that they found another bottle of wine before disappearing back into her room, laughing as they tripped up the stairs.   
They had so much fun that night that when Nymeria woke up in the morning to find an empty room, she was slightly surprised and slightly upset.   
The only proof that he had been there was a note, written out in barely readable handwriting, asking her if he could meet her again later this week. He had left a place and a time to meet.  
Her heart sank, knowing that by then she would be owned by a prince and that she would never be able to meet him again.


	3. What Makes a Queen?

Sansa had gotten up early this morning, just as she had done every day while she was in King’s Landing. Although, today was different. At least, that was what Sansa was hoping. Arya had told her that it would take a shorter amount of time to get to King’s Landing since she was riding Nymeria. The beast could run faster than any horse and for longer. Since Arya was riding alone, she should have been here by now.   
Sansa shook her head, clearing it of thoughts of her sister and the uncertainty that Arya would bring. She put rose red paint on her lips and braided her hair in the Southern style. She slid the straps of a Highgarden style dress up her arms and studied herself in the mirror. Before today, she had sported Northern dresses. She had represented Northern traits and values, but today she would show the Court a different side of her. When her sister was coming representing two Northern houses, Sansa would show that she represented both the North and the South.   
She turned around to look at every angle of herself in the mirror.  
“What do you think?” she asked.  
Margaery looked up from where she was reading a book on Sansa’s bed, “You look beautiful. The prince is a lucky man to be able to look at you all day.”  
Sansa sighed, “Not like he would notice.”  
Margaery snorted, “If he doesn’t notice, then he’s blind.”  
Sansa smiled at her, “Would you escort me to the throne room, my lady?”  
Margaery jumped up from the bed, “I would be honored, my lady.”  
The king was taking petitions from the common folk when they arrived, the line of commoners started at the door and snaked down the stone stairs. It was only once in a blue moon that the king did this himself, usually leaving it to his Hand to manage such a task. But everyone had noticed that he was paying more attention to the kingdom since Cersei and her swarm of bastards had been found out. King Robert had taken even more responsibility for his kingdoms since he had made the arrangement to put one of the Stark sisters on the throne. The rumor circulating that everyone told Sansa was that the king was showing his new son how to properly rule a kingdom. The rumor circulating that no one told Sansa was that the king had heard stories of Arya’s hands-on governing of Bear Island and had followed suit.   
Sansa thought back to the letters that she and her sister had shared over the years. It had been nine years since they had seen each other, half of Arya’s life. She had a hard time thinking of the horse-faced girl she once knew as a powerful and respected leader, despite her sex. The Arya she remembered was one that rolled in mud with her brothers and played at sword with a wooden sword when their mother wasn’t looking. It was hard for her to understand that her sister had now bathed herself in blood and slaughtered people with a gleam of steel.   
She looked down at her dress as she took her spot by the new bastard prince. Her sister would be quite different from what everyone was expecting.   
Shy shyly glanced at the prince. “My prince,” she whispered, “I should warn you that my sister is not the typical lady. She may not behave in a proper way. I ask for your forgiveness ahead of time for her. She has lived for nine years in an isolated and slightly backward place. She does not know better. She may act...forward.”  
The prince met her with eyes that seemed far away. “A little forwardness never hurt anyone. In fact, it may lead to more fun that way.”  
Sansa shifted as she tried to keep her confusion off of her face, “Fun?”  
Sansa was stunned to see a soft smile grace the prince’s face as he turned back toward the commoner that had stepped up for his petition.  
“Your-Your Grace,” the commoner was shaking in what was left of his boots, “I-I live just outside of King’s Landing. Recently, my lands have been pillaged. My crops were destroyed. Men arrived in the night and trampled them all. This was the second field of mine that has been destroyed in the past month. I have nothing to feed my family. No crops to sell to get money for taxes. The vandals wrecked my plow and killed my horse.”  
King Robert looked at the man, “And what would you have the crown do?”  
The commoner shifted as if he were trying to get up the courage to reply, a commotion arose outside the door, where the commoners were lined up, waiting to be allowed into the throne room. Shrieks pierced through the doors and loud shouting met the lords and ladies’ ears. King Robert stood hastily from his chair, as he reached for a warhammer that was not strapped to his back. The Kingsguard slipped their swords out of their sheaths as people backed away from the door.   
They banged open, letting the late-morning sun light up the room and a large shadow appeared. A howl rumbled through the throne room as Sansa’s eyes adjusted to the bright light. A few seconds later, another howl joined in. Lady was welcoming her sister.  
Sansa let out the breath she had not realized she was holding.  
A lithe, small figure slid from the back of the howling beast, walking calmly through the cowering lords and ladies. Her sister wore a light grey shirt tucked into dark grey pants, her hair in a neat braid thrown over her shoulder, and her face free of rouge and (blessedly) free of dirt. A thin sword with a wolf’s head on its pommel strapped to her hip and Nymeria followed behind her mistress, peering over her shoulder.   
Nymeria was indeed much bigger than Lady, and far more wild. Her tail was full of knots and her yellow eyes glittered dangerously. The wolf appeared slightly wet, as though Arya had forced her to take a bath before coming. Still, her teeth shined and her muscles strained and her growl accompanied her proud walk. She was a beast to be feared.  
Arya’s bright eyes were alight with mischief as she took in the Kingsguard with their swords still drawn. Her eyebrow quirked up, “For me? You shouldn’t have.”  
“Lads,” Lord Eddard smiled, “She might give you a run for your money if you try anything. Do yourselves a favor and put the swords away.”  
Sansa watched as her little sister broke decorum to rush into her father’s arms. Ned laughed, picking up his younger daughter and spinning her around. He put her down with a playful groan and placed his hand on his back, “When did you get so big?”  
Arya laughed before her eyes met Sansa’s. Sansa’s skirts swept behind her as she descended the pedestal. She wrapped her arms around her sister for the first time in nine years, wanting to feel the warmth of her sister but also not wanting to look like the only Stark left out of the family reunion. Decorum be damned, the Starks would not look divided under any circumstances.   
“Sansa! You look gorgeous!” Arya said, stepping back to take in her sister.  
“And you!” Sansa laughed, “You’re meeting the king in breeches!”  
Arya laughed at the wondrous tone in Sansa’s voice, “I’m meeting the king in pants!”  
“Why?!”  
Arya gave her a mock-guilty look, “I don’t own a dress.”  
Sansa laughed, Ned’s chuckle joining in, “Of course, you don’t own dresses.”  
The king cleared his throat, and the small family turned to look at him.  
Arya seemed to remember her place and stepped forward to curtsy to King Robert, “Forgive me, Your Grace. You may be a king, but they are family that I haven’t seen in the past nine years. They take precedence.”   
“You certainly seem to know where you stand, Lady Arya,” the king said.  
Arya came out of her curtsy with a smile, “I know my priorities.”  
She looked over at the commoner who still stood before the king. The commoner’s eyes shifted from the wolf to the girl.  
Arya’s smile softened, “Hi.”  
The man fumbled with a greeting before going back to watching the wolf’s every move.  
The king shifted in his throne again. He had never had difficulty keeping control of his throne room, but he was entirely aware that the young woman in breeches now had her hands on the reins. “I wonder, Lady Arya, if the stories that I’ve heard of you are true.”  
She tilted her head. Behind her, Nymeria did the same. “I suppose that depends on the story, my king.”  
Robert’s eyes were alight with wonder, “They say that you killed a rebellion before I even hear of it.”  
“That would be true, Your Grace.”  
“You took out a whole Ironborn batallion within a day.”  
“I did.”  
“Tell me, Lady Arya: the Ironborn have the best fleet in the kingdoms, how did you get them off of their boats?”  
Arya’s eyes went cold, “It’s hard to keep a boat on the water when the sea is on fire.”  
King Robert smiled, “You set the water on fire?”  
“For an hour or two. The people that managed to come onto the island after that were...dealt with.”  
“And you led the charge?”  
“Nymeria and I did, yes.”  
“Nymeria?” a voice asked. The prince’s voice cut through the room, and Arya’s eyes met the prince’s for the first time.  
She seemed to take a step back and Sansa could see Arya’s breath leave her. Time seemed to stand still, along with the rest of the lords and ladies in the throne room. Something in Arya’s eyes went soft for a moment as she seemed to study the man with familiarity.   
Then, Arya’s demeanor shifted entirely. Her eyes became hard, a mask falling in front of her face. Sansa’s sister was mad, viciously, dangerously mad.   
Prince Gendry seemed to start next to Sansa, as if he had seen the almost imperceptible change in Arya. Then, he stood taller and squared his shoulders in determination. Sansa realized with startling clarity that the two seemed to be readying for battle.   
Arya shifted, never taking her eyes off of the bastard prince, “Nymeria is my wolf, my beast, if you will.”  
At the sound of her mistress saying her name, Nymeria came forward and peered at the man with sharp eyes.  
King Robert missed the change in the air, “Yes, your beast. She will have to go in the stables, I’m afraid.”  
Arya’s eyes became even harder, and a low growl showed both the wolf’s and the mistress’ dissatisfaction.  
“I’m afraid, Your Grace, that if you did that, you would have a lot of dead horses,” Arya said.  
“And why is that?” the king asked, not used to being told no.  
“Nymeria is a companion, not a pet. She’s just as willful as any of us. And even more able to show her disapproval.”  
“Where would you suggest she stay then?”  
“With me, Your Grace.”  
The king sputtered, “With you?”  
“As I said, she is a companion. And in my company she is the most content.” Arya’s steely eyes met the prince’s, “Considering neither of us want to be here, it would be best to try to keep her content.”  
The Hall bristled, whispers pricking up at the Stark sister’s words.  
The king sat back in his chair, a frown appearing on his belligerent face, “Your father did tell you why you are here, did he not, Lady Arya?”  
“He did not,” Arya shot her father a look, “But a girl can assume.”  
Arya’s glare turned back to the prince, “And it looks as if I’ve assumed correctly. Let me be clear then: the only reason that I came to King’s Landing is because my father ordered me and my sister asked me. I am not here to be queen. I am not here to pick up after a prince who is more interested in fucking women than ruling the kingdoms. I am not here to marry. And I am not here to play games. I intend to see my sister married and then ride off back to Bear Island.”  
“Arya,” Ned’s voice warned, but no one paid attention.   
The king’s face turned red. His eyes filled with vengeful anger and awe. “How dare you?”  
“I have people that depend on me, Your Grace. I have a home, a duty, and a love for my people that will not fall away just because you tell that man to wed and bed me,” she pointed viciously at the prince. “I have found my place, and I have sworn myself to protect it. I cannot do that while warming your son’s bed.”  
“Arya, enough!” Sansa hissed.  
“Being queen is a great privilege!”  
“Being queen does not hold a candle to my island. Sitting in court does not hold a candle to my people. Getting married to a man I just met does not hold a candle to my little bear trying to run an island.” she glared at the king, “As we’ve already discussed. I have my priorities.”  
The king stood from his throne, walking up to her, “I should have you hanged.”  
Arya met the king’s eyes.  
“No, you shouldn’t.”  
Sansa’s voice did not shake, even as his father turned to stare at him.  
“What did you say?” the king asked through tight lips.  
Lady Sansa only took a deep breath and turned to the commoner, still cowering by the lady and the king, “Lady Arya, this man came to us saying that vandals had destroyed two of his fields and his supplies along with some animals. He says that he no longer has food for his family or money to pay his taxes. How would you respond?”  
Lady Arya studied her sister for a minute before looking over to the commoner, “I would send him with money and seed. I would also send guards to find the vandals so that they don’t do it again. I would also send the guards with money and seed for the surrounding farms. If the vandals struck him twice, they were probably striking a lot more people than just him.”  
“That would be your ruling?” Sansa asked.  
“It would.” Arya was confident.   
“And if the man is lying? If vandals have not struck his farm and he’s just making it up to get the Crown’s money?”  
Arya’s face scrunched up, “They hardly ever are. And if he was then the guards would see it and act accordingly.”  
Sansa continued on, “And what would you say to the lords and ladies that do not think it our job to interfere in the lives of the smallfolk?”  
“We interfere in their lives plenty already. We levy taxes, fight over their lands, and profit off of their hard work. The least we can do is protect them from harm.”  
Sansa turned to the king, “I know that what she said may have sounded harsh, but think of what she just told you. She prioritizes her people over the power that comes with being queen. She’s not here to play the games of Court, she came because she has a duty to her family and her people. She did not want to leave Bear Island because she did not want to leave her young to lead on her own. She wants to do what is right, not just for the lords and ladies but also for the smallfolk. And she’s already proven in legend and with her ruling that she is capable of doing just that. You want a queen like that. If you hang her now, she will not get to show you the queen that she could be.”  
Sansa stepped closer to King Robert, where he stood over her sister, “You called Lady Arya of Winterfell, of Houses Stark and Tully, who is part wolf and part bear. Did you believe that when you called her here that she would not represent her two animals? Did you think that she wouldn’t be as ferocious as a wolf fighting for her pack or as dangerous as a bear protecting her young?”  
King Robert studied Lady Arya. And the whole Hall held its breath.


	4. Things We're Not So Sure Of

No one said a word as King Robert continued to peer down at the tiny girl. Arya did not seem intimidated though. She met his gaze steadily with an intense ferocity.  
“Fine,” the kings said, a sly smile appearing on his face, “Ser Barristan, please escort Lady Arya to the princess’ chambers.”  
Arya’s eyes grew wide, but the king just turned to make his way to the throne.  
“Are you barking mad?” she yelled after him.  
The king laughed, “You would be the one to know. Since you are a wolf.”  
He sat roughly into his chair and the prince leaned forward to whisper something into his father’s ear. The king batted him away, “I don’t want to hear it! You’ll marry the girl!”  
“No, he will not!” Arya cried, “I have to get back! I told Lyanna that I would be back! I have to help her rule!”  
“No, lass. You will rule here. In this castle. Alongside my son.”  
“I will not be sold away to marry your son so that you can punish me for having the decency to tell you upfront about how I feel.”  
“Lady Arya,” the king said, “I am not punishing you for telling me the truth. What do you think your father tells me everyday? For a long time, the Starks have been a measure of truth in the kingdoms. I expect it of you actually. No, I am not punishing you for your actions. I’m giving you the crown because what your sister said was right. You have all of the properties of a great queen. And that is something that we desperately need.”  
Arya’s face crumbled and her voice seemed to break in half, “And what about my Lyanna?”  
The king’s face fell. “I am sorry to anyone who loses a Lyanna, but she will be fine. In the meantime, you will show us that you can be the queen your sister thinks you are.”  
Arya’s teary eyes turned slowly from the king to Sansa. The steely grey washed with Arya’s sadness turned into a raging sea and under it was something that Sansa had never seen before. It was the rage of a mother bear torn from her cub, a predatory, vengeful calm that told of unhinged potential and unbridled power.   
So this is how people feel, Sansa thought, before they are mauled by a bear. 

(*&*)  
Gendry waited until it was the time he had specified in his note before he snuck into the princess’ chambers. The red, circular room had not been used since Myrcella Baratheon had become Myrcella Waters.  
The last time Gendry had been in this room had been the day that she left eight years ago. They had only a month to know each other, but the last name of Waters had joined them together better than the name Baratheon. She had grabbed onto his hand, her blonde hair already hidden behind a Septa’s veil. She had stared at him with heavy eyes and had asked him to do one thing for her. He had replied that he would do it if he could. The favor she had asked of him still managed to linger in the room: “Don’t let them change who you are. Be better than them.”  
Days like these, when he had spent the day arguing with his father, these were the days when he thought he would not be able to keep his word.  
Lady Arya was waiting for him, the door unbarred to let him slip inside undetected.   
“Did you know?” was the first thing that popped out of her mouth.  
“That you were going to lose your mind and talk that way to my father? No.”  
“No, Stupid. Did you know who I was?”  
“Last night?” Gendry asked.  
“Yes.”  
He rubbed his neck, “I suspected. After the sword. No commoner could afford that kind of sword, I knew that, and with the bear and the wolf… I suspected.”  
Arya studied him, “You didn’t suspect….You were in denial.”  
Gendry sighed, “Yes, okay? I didn’t want you to be...you.”  
“Why not?”  
Gendry stared at her before turning to look at the room, “I wanted you to be untouched. By all of this. For eight years, my whole life has been this castle and governing the kingdoms. I wanted something in my life that wasn’t related to any of this like it used to be.”  
“I’m not related to any of this.”  
Gendry let out a breathy laugh before sitting on the bed, “Of course you are. You’re a lady of noble birth, and my betrothed besides. You have been connected to all of this since your birth.”  
“I am not your betrothed.”  
“You are. You have been since my father started to hear stories of you. ‘She’s just like Lyanna’, he told me. ‘The kingdoms need a woman like her.’”  
“I will never be a good queen. Sansa would be a much better queen than me.”  
Gendry shrugged, “Before he heard stories about you, she was always who I was supposed to marry.”  
“If I could just get him to realize that I’m not the queen that he wants then I could get home.”  
“To Lyanna.”  
“Yes,” Arya turned to look at him, “I told her that I would be back. I can’t break that promise.”  
“I know what you told her,” Gendry said, reaching into his vest.  
“No, you--” Arya’s eyes locked on the letter Gendry pulled out.  
He unfolded it, reading its contents:  
Little Bear,  
I arrived in King’s Landing today, and handled everything. I will be home in 20 days. I leave tonight.  
Wolfcub  
“Where did you get that?”  
“They shot the raven out of the sky.” Gendry stated. He handed the letter to her, “I appreciate that you want to go back, but I should warn you that my father will have multiple guards watching your chambers tonight.”  
“Then, I’ll fight my way out.” her answer was resolute.  
Gendry lifted an eyebrow, “The guards are your father’s men.”  
Arya’s shoulders sank, “Fuck.”  
Gendry got off of the bed and stood close to her. His eyes dropped to her lips. Lips that he had gotten to taste the night before. “I’ve convinced my father to give you a choice. You are required to stay in King’s Landing for a month. You will fulfill any duties associated with being queen. If you do not feel like you can do the job sufficiently, or if you want to go back, by the end of the month, then your sister will marry me.”  
“Easy.”  
Gendry smiled at her, taking a step closer, “Are you sure about that, Lady Arya?”  
Her eyes met his, coming up from where they had drifted to his lips. “Don’t call me Lady Arya.”  
He took one step closer, and right before his lips met hers he whispered: “Okay, Nymeria.”


	5. Solutions Begin with a Problem

“She’s eighteen years of age, Ned. That’s plenty old enough to be married.” King Robert raised his goblet back up to his lips.   
“Arya is different from other girls, Robert.” Lord Eddard Stark continued to pace his friend’s solar. “I’ve shared letters with her since she started at Bear Island. I read of all of her accomplishments, her disappointments, her complications. One time she told me that she was scared of any match that I made her. She said that in Bear Island she could make a difference and that she did not want to be sold into marriage, made only to have kids. Make no mistake, Robert. If Lady Lyanna had been born a man and was still willing to take Arya’s counsel, then Arya would already be married.”  
King Robert laughed, drunkenly, “Well, then it’s fortunate that this Lyanna is of the female sex, isn’t it?”  
“She will never be happy here. The best thing that you could do is let her go right now.”  
Robert’s smile faltered, “I gave your daughter an out. If she does not do a good job as queen, then she is free to return back to the North.”  
Ned leaned over the desk separating the two, “Your son did, and it was the best decision he has made. The worst thing you can do to a girl like Arya is keep her caged unwillingly.”  
“And now she isn’t. Your daughter is free to pick.”  
Lord Eddard shook his head, “Catelyn will not be happy. The last time she saw Arya...it did not end well.”  
“Well then, invite her to King’s Landing. Let her see what her child will do for the kingdoms!”

(*&*)

Lady Olenna did not drink tea tonight. Tonight was a wine night, and only a wine night. “That did not go according to plan.”  
“What was I supposed to do? He was going to kill her!”  
Lady Olenna held up a hand, “My dear, I’m not mad. I understand better than anyone the need to protect one’s family. Nevertheless, your sister has been in the capital for less than a day and has already gotten herself proclaimed as the future queen. Tomorrow, she may decide that she wants to try for High Septon.”  
Margaery looked over at Sansa, “There are already servants dusting off the queen’s desk. Prince Gendry put out feelers for people to add to the queen’s staff.”  
Sansa covered her face with her hands, “You’ve got to be joking.”  
“No. Unfortunately, I’m not.”  
Sansa slumped in her chair, “He was going to kill her. I could see it in his eyes. What he said about Starks telling the truth...it was a lie. He was furious.”  
Lady Olenna nodded, “We know, dear.”  
Sansa looked out over the harbor, “Arya would have preferred death over this.”  
Margaery placed her hand on Sansa’s shoulder, “Don’t say that.”  
“Well, it’s true. All of the politics and the gowns and the snivelling ladies and the wedding planning...it will slowly kill her.” Sansa sighed, “She may be made to govern, but she was not made to fill Cersei Lannister’s shoes.”  
“Be that as it may,” Lady Olenna leaned forward, “We need a new plan. And we’ll need reinforcements.”  
Sansa met her foster-grandmother’s eyes, “Reinforcements.”  
Lady Olenna handed the Stark daughter a quill, “Write a letter. We need it to arrive as soon as possible.”  
“To where? Who are we sending it to.”  
Lady Olenna smiled, “Why, your mother of course.”

(*&*)

“Where did you learn the--” Gendry tried to clear his head, “The, the thing?”  
Arya looked up his body at him, “What thing? This thing?”  
Gendry’s breath was snatched from him, “No, no. I mean, yes, that thing too, but no, the other thing.”  
“This thing.”  
Gendry moaned.  
Arya looked down at his body, “Yeah. That’s the thing.”  
Gendry’s muscles turned to liquid, “Shut up.”  
Arya raised a brow, “You’re welcome.”  
She crawled up to lay on her back beside him, “You should probably go before anyone sees you.”  
Gendry gave a long groan, turning to face her on his side and throwing an arm around her.  
“It’s not my fault!” she laughed, “Your father is the one that made all of the guards watch me.”  
Gendry looked out the window to see the night’s stars.  
“Shit,” he said, “They’ll be watching your room like a hawk. They’ll catch me if I try to sneak out.”  
She waved a hand, almost smacking him in the face, “Don’t worry. They’re my father’s men. Just tell them that we were arguing and they’ll believe you. And it’s kind of true. I am still of the opinion that it was four, not five.”  
Gendry buried his face in her shoulder, “I am not going to argue with you again about how many times I gave you your pleasure. We lost count. End of story.”  
“You said it was five not an hour ago!”  
“I changed my mind!”  
“You can’t do that!”  
“Yes, I can! It’s not illegal! And if it was, I’m the prince, I can pardon myself!”  
The irritated look came off of Arya’s face. Gendry understood what was happening, even before Arya sat up straight in bed, a scared look plastered across her face.  
“Okay, okay,” Gendry’s voice was gentle, “You’re fine. It’s no big deal. You're just pretending to be queen and courting a prince.”  
Her eyes shot to his.  
“Okay, that sounded really bad. But, you know...it’s nothing that you haven’t done before.”  
“Done before?” she was incredulous, “You think that I’ve done this before? Oh, no! I have not done this before!”  
She fell out of bed, taking the bed clothes with her. She did not seem to notice though. She was too busy gathering the fabric around herself while pacing the red room.   
“I thought you governed Bear Island?”  
“I was an adviser to Lyanna. I know how to do it. I did a lot of it until she felt comfortable, sure. But I never, ever had to build everything from scratch. I had allies there. I knew every person on the island by name. I knew what they needed. I knew what needed to be fixed. Here? I’m working off of nothing. I have none of the intimate knowledge that I need. I can’t go out and learn everyone’s name in all of the seven bloody kingdoms. I don’t know what they need. And I am alone.”  
Arya’s heart seemed to wrench out of her chest. “My father looks like he is a hundred years old and my sister is the one that got me into this mess. My pack is gone. Lyanna’s not here. Mycah is with her. Weasel stayed as well.”  
She sat down on the edge of the bed, “I don’t know what I’m doing. And I’m alone. I’m so alone.”  
Gendry stared at her back, at the way the bed-clothes just barely wrapped around her. They had slipped down and he could see scars lining her back. He raised a hand and let it trace a scar down her side. She seemed to take a relaxing breath.  
“You’re not alone.” Gendry said, “You’ll have me. And a staff to care for you. You’ll have servants and you’ll pick ladies-in-waiting.”  
“I don’t know any ladies down here.”  
“What about your sister?”  
“Did you not hear the part about how she got me into this mess?”  
“I think she was doing what she thought was best.”  
“Yeah, well she didn’t.”  
Gendry thought for a moment, “I know one woman that you can trust. I’m not sure that she will be who everyone wants you to pick though.”  
Arya turned to him, “They’ll only have to put up with it for a month.”  
He smiled, “That’s true.”  
He tucked some of her hair behind her ear, “She won’t be a natural fit for politics, but she’s incredibly intelligent and kind. She’ll be a good friend to you.”  
“Okay,” she whispered. There was a pause. “Are you going to tell me who she is?”  
“No,” he patted her cheek, “I’ll let it be a surprise.”  
Her face turned irate, “You’re so stupid."


	6. The Allies Align

“The prince did what?” Sansa whispered.  
Margaery’s eyes were soft, “I just heard.”  
Sansa stared at the breakfast in front of her, trying to give her feelings away to the other people in the Great Hall for breakfast. She sat, looking perfectly lovely in a teal dress, in perfect view of the chair her sister would sit in when she arrived. The high-backed chair next to Prince Gendry at the high table still gleamed in the light awaiting its new owner. Around it sat the most prominent men and women of the kingdoms.  
“I should not be here,” Sansa whispered, “I should not be at a lower table.”  
Margaery was sympathetic, “Maybe the rumors are wrong.”  
The two studied the prince. He was tired but seemed happy, almost mischievous.  
“No,” Sansa said, “The rumors are true.”  
“How do you know?”  
Sansa nodded towards the entrance of the Hall, “Look.”  
Margaery’s head swung around to realize that Lady Arya had entered the room. The other people around her saw the same thing and a hush came over the Hall.  
She is rather pretty, Lady Margaery thought, and rather mad.  
Yes, Lady Arya was mad, seething really, although many of the men in the room would not have seen it. Margaery knew from Sansa’s stories that Arya used to be called Arya Horseface, but no person could say that now. She had grown into her looks, although not into her height. The girl was still short, but lean and muscular. She wore a black, flowing dress with gold embroidery that swept out behind her, and even had a little rouge on her cheeks. She was gorgeous. And showing off her betrothed’s colors. Nymeria walked by her side. And on Arya’s other side strolled a tall girl with black hair and piercing blue eyes.  
“Mya Stone,” Margaery whispered. “She wasn’t legitimized like Gendry, but her brother did call for her to come here once he was proclaimed a prince. Gendry wanted someone that could understand what he was going through. So, she’s stayed in the capital, although she does not live in court. Until late last night, when Prince Gendry sent for her to attend your sister.”  
“How late?” Sansa asked.  
Margaery shrugged, “Lord Varys told me that one of his little birds saw a messenger leave around three in the morning.”  
Sansa eyed Lady Margaery with a worried look.  
“What?” Margaery asked.  
Sansa’s eyes swept to the prince as he watched Arya carefully walk up the stairs to the high table, “He was thinking of her. He was up late thinking of people to put on her service.”  
Margaery squinted, “Why would he do that?”  
Sansa schooled her face and looked back at her breakfast. She picked up her fork and knife to stab the meat in front of her, “Either to help her. Or to harm her.”

(*&*)

“When you said that you had someone to be my friend, I did not know it would be your sister,” Arya said quietly.  
Gendry raised his eyebrows, “Is she unsatisfactory?”  
A smile flashed over Arya’s face, if just for a moment,“She’s hilarious.”  
Mya leaned over, “It’s true. I am quite the riot.”  
“And a handful,” Gendry said to his sister, “Remember that you are here to make her life easier, Mya. Now the other way around.”  
“Oh, brother, I’m not the one that is the handful.”  
Gendry’s eyes flashed in recognition, “You told her?”  
Arya’s eyes grew wide, “I thought you did!”  
Mya plucked up some eggs with her fork, “No one told me.”  
Lord Eddard Stark stood in front of his daughter, looking as if he had had a long night. His hair was unruly and the shadows under his eyes told of countless hours of sleep that had been lost. In his hand, was a stack of papers several inches thick, along with letters. Behind him stood two men, “Arya, I wanted to talk to you about your first day, if I could.”  
Gendry smiled, “I’ll give you all some space. Meet me tonight so that we can talk.”  
He got up and left, his sister jokingly calling after him, “Oh, but brother, how will she knew when and where to meet?”  
The look that Gendry sent over his shoulder had Mya laughing.  
Ned looked like he wanted to know, but instead gave the voluminous stack of papers to Arya. “These are some of the papers that Cersei left behind. I thought you might be able to piece together some of what she did through them. There are also some events the king would like you to plan and attend as well as some papers that need looking after.  
“Of course, as queen, you will need to run the Red Keep to make sure that everything goes smoothly, a job that I do not envy.” He waved to a man behind him.  
The man was short and squat with a jovial face and twinkling eyes. “This is Hot Pie. Prince Gendry met him and asked him to cook for the Red Keep. He runs the kitchens and will report to you.”  
Hot Pie smiled, “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness, really! Gendry has been a great friend of mine and so I’m very happy to get to know you, Your Highness”  
Arya wondered to herself what had made Gendry pick this man to cook. And how the two had met and grown to be friends. The man that she thought she had known by the end of their night at the tavern was turning out to be quite the mystery to her.  
Arya shook her head, “It’s very nice to meet you as well, Hot Pie. But I’m not Your Highness.”  
Hot Pie’s face turned confused, “Aren’t you to be the princess?”  
“No. I mean, yes, but--”  
“Well then: you’re Your Highness and that’s what I’ll call you.” Hot Pie seemed very happy that he knew that. Arya got the sense that he had worked hard to learn that information before meeting her. She felt bad for trying to get him to stop. She remembered an old man in Bear Island who was the type to tell her the same story of how he met her father every time he saw her. He also seemed proud to call her his lady. He seemed proud to be able to call her his lady.   
She smiled at him, “But my friends call me Arya, Hot Pie, and I would very much like us to be friends.”  
Lord Eddard smiled at his daughter proudly as Hot Pie’s face lit up with delight.  
“I would very much like that, Arya.”  
“It will be nice for you all to be friends,” Ned said, “Especially since you all will be working so closely together. Arya, you’ll also be working closely with Lord Rykker. He helps to run the rest of the servants that are not under Hot Pie’s command. While the kitchen has a large staff of cooks, butchers, farmers, and servers, Lord Rykker looks after the maids and butlers.”  
A distinguished man came forward, his hair grey and his ornate tunic neat, and bowed deeply to her, “My lady.”  
“Arya, please.”  
He looked up, still in his bow, “I think not, my lady.”  
Ned continued, “Lord Rykker has taken care of the staff for a long time. He knows how everything should work. He’s been doing this for longer than you’ve been alive.”  
Arya smiled, “Well, then I'm happy to have you.”  
Rykker seemed severe, “My lady.”  
Lord Eddard patted the stack of papers, “In there is a schedule. You will need to attend everything on it.” He looked sternly at his daughter, “Including the tea session.”  
Arya’s eyes grew, “What?”  
Ned shrugged, “This is what queens do. They go to tea when the other ladies ask.”  
“Who asked?”  
“Lady Olenna.”  
Arya looked down at the lower table where Sansa sat, talking animately to Lady Margaery. “Shit,” she whined.  
Her father patted her hand, “There will be other ladies in attendance.”  
“Great, more people to degrade and humiliate me.”  
Mya butted in, “Maybe it won’t be too bad, Arya. You are going to be their queen. They’ll want to be on your good side.”  
Arya sighed, “Or they’re going to want to make my life a living Hell.”  
Ned sighed and moved to stand, “It would be best to be on the look-out. But your sister and her foster family will be there, so you should have plenty of back-up.”  
Arya seemed sad, “At least she has her family.”  
Ned looked pained as he left his daughter.

(*&*)

“This will be your office,” Lord Rykker said, opening the doors to a large, spacious room with a courtyard attached. In the corner sat a large desk, and Lannister colors covered the walls.  
“When was the last time anyone has been in here?” Arya asked.  
Lord Rykker gave her a reprimanding look, “My maids clean it every day.”  
“Of course,” Arya said, realizing what he must have thought, “I just mean…”  
“The last time anyone besides my maids were in here was when your father and several guards arrested the queen. And now, you’re here.”  
Arya sat the papers on the desk before turning to Rykker. She studied him and the wall that seemed to be set firmly between them, “Is that a problem for you?”  
Rykker’s eyes met hers with a steady gaze, “I am here to serve you.”  
Arya sat behind the desk, “I suppose that’s all I need from you.”  
His nose scrunched up, “Did you expect another...friend?”  
Arya’s eyes flashed. So that was it. Lord Rykker did not like how informal she was, how inexperienced, how...young.  
“No,” she said, carefully, “I did expect loyalty. But if I can’t get that, then at least I will know not to trust you.”  
“I was trusted with a great many things. Before my role in this household was torn to pieces.”  
“Cersei trusted you.”  
Lord Rykker nodded, “Implicitly.”  
Arya sat back in her chair, “I ran a whole island before coming here. Nothing happened without me knowing it.”  
“There are over a thousand workers in this castle.”  
“There are over a thousand people on my island.”  
Lord Rykker studied the girl staring back at her. He had watched her walk uneasily down the hallway in her dress. He had seen the uneasy and hesitant look that she threw to Mya when Lord Rykker had asked that Arya go with him to the queen’s office with him. He had also seen the way that she had interacted with the prince.  
Now, he was seeing her answer his call for a challenge. He was seeing her match it.   
He cleared his throat, “Loyalty is earned, my lady. However, discretion is part of the job.”  
She seemed to grow a new respect for him, “Are you sure you’re from the Crownlands?”  
“Very sure, ma’am.”  
She seemed to smile a soft, subtle smile, “Could have fooled me.”

(*&*)

Sansa made her way through the crowd of ladies that had formed around her in the Great Hall after Arya had left.  
“I’m very sorry that you did not get much time with the prince,” Luci Lannister exclaimed, grabbing Sansa’s hands.  
“Oh. Well, thank you. It was a short time.”  
Luci took a step closer to her, “Truthfully, I think you would have been a much better queen. I realize she’s your sister, but our future princess is probably as savage as her island of bears.”  
The ladies around her agreed.  
Margaery saddled up to Sansa, taking her arm, “On the contrary, I heard that Bear Island is very civilised.”  
Luci’s eyes went big, “Oh, I meant no offense. It’s just that they’re so isolated. And the way they handled the Iron Fleet… could you imagine?”  
The ladies nodded with sympathetic eyes.  
Luci went to Sansa’s other side, “I would much rather have you as a queen than your sister. She may know how to govern, but being queen and governing are two very different things. Arya seems so...cold.”  
Lady Sansa met Lady Luci’s eyes with ice in her blue eyes, “Yes, well she is of the North.”  
The ladies went quiet. It was Margaery’s forced laughter that drove the ladies to think of the remark as a joke. Sansa did not join in.

(*&*)

“Why is this candle money allocation so high?” Arya nodded at the number on the page.  
Lord Rykker looked at it, “That’s just how things are done.”  
He seemed to want to stop there, but the look that Arya had on her face said it all. He looked down at the number again, “Candles are made from one shop in King’s Landing. It’s a family-owned establishment that has been making candles for the castle since the Targaryens. Candles are brought here from the shop every day and new ones are freshly replaced.”  
“Freshly replaced?” Arya asked, “Does that mean that if a candle has not gone all the way down that they’re replaced anyway?”  
“Yes. Those are the rules.”  
“And what do you do with the old ones?”  
“We throw them out.”  
“You don’t use the wax again?”  
Lord Rykker looked appalled, “This is the place of residence for the king. We do not reuse anything.”  
Arya looked over at Mya, who had a bewildered look on her face.   
“Do you at least donate the candles somewhere?” Mya asked.  
“That would be against the rules.”  
The two girls looked at the man.  
“Is there a rule book written down somewhere?” Arya asked.

(*&*)

“Father!” Arya whisper-yelled from behind the column.  
Lord Eddard looked around before catching sight of his daughter and her companions. He went over to them.  
“Is something wrong?” Ned asked, “I have to be in a council meeting soon.”  
Arya thrusted the account book into his hand, “Do you see something wrong with the candle allocations?”  
Ned looked down at the book and then back at his daughter. He seemed confused, “No?”  
“What about the bed clothes allocation?”  
He studied that one. “No.”  
“It’s high. Super high. They’re not reusing candles or doing anything to cut costs. And the bed clothes get thrown out every week. Every week.”  
Ned seemed more confused than ever, “Who cares about the price of candles?”  
“This isn’t just one candle, Father. It’s hundreds. Per day. In a month, the castle buys 15,000 candles and 400 new sets of bed clothes.”  
“Okay?” her father was still confused, even after her telling him everything.  
“I need to see the king.”  
“You can’t see the king over some candles, Arya.”  
“The rule book says that any major changes to the running of the castle have to at least be run by the king.”  
Ned shook his head, “I’m sorry, Arya. I understand that you think this is an issue, but I promise you that Robert will not hear of it. He will not want to meet, and he certainly won’t like anything changed. You will just have to deal.”  
Arya looked at her father, dumbfounded, “Do you know how much money we’re wasting on candles?”  
Ned laughed a little, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. The country won’t go under just because of some candles.”  
Then, he gave the book back to Arya and left. Mya, Nymeria, and Arya all looked mystified.  
“What just happened?” Mya asked.  
“He just brushed me off,” Arya told her.  
“Isn’t the kingdoms under financial burden right now?”  
“Yes.”  
“You told me this was over a thousand gold coins per month.”  
“It is.”  
Mya threw up her hands, “Then why didn’t he take this seriously?”  
Arya slumped against the column as her reality shattered around her, “Because. It’s just the running of the household. Men care about women’s work. They think it’s beneath them to have anything to do with it.”  
Mya’s face scrunched up, “You told me your father was one of the best men in the kingdoms.”  
“He is,” Arya said, looking out to where her father had disappeared to. “So, if he won’t listen to us, nobody will.”

(*&*)

Sansa followed her sister’s voice as it travelled down the hall. She could hear her just ahead talking to who Sansa assumed was Mya Stone.  
She turned a corner and caught sight of her sister.  
“Arya!” Sansa called.  
Her sister twisted to look over her shoulder, looked into Sansa’s eyes, and then turned back around to continue walking away from her.  
“Arya!” Sansa called again, appalled that her sister had ignored her.  
“Go away, Sansa!” Arya yelled.  
“I will not!” Sansa rushed to catch up with her, and slammed her hand on the door that Arya was trying to open. She shut it firmly again, “I need to talk to you.”  
Arya met Sansa’s eyes, “You’ve done enough talking already.”  
Sansa’s eyes grew, “How dare you? I was trying to save your life!”  
“And effectively ruined my chances at ever going back to the North.”  
“I didn’t know that would happen!”  
Mya turned on her heel, “I’m going to give you all space. This seems like a sisterly thing. Please don’t kill each other.” Then, she was gone.  
Arya wrenched the door open and stomped into a large office. It took Sansa a minute to realize that the office was the queen’s or...well, Arya’s.  
Her sister threw some papers onto the desk and placed her hands on the wood.  
“Did you know?” she asked, her voice more of a growl than anything.  
“No, how would I have known that the king would do that?”  
Arya shook her head, still keeping her back to Sansa.  
“Not that.” Arya took a deep breath, “Did you know about the deal when you sent the letter?”  
Sansa paused for a second, “No. No, I didn’t. I felt so bad once I realized. I thought that you would think that I was leading you into a trap for a betrothal when I wrote that message.”  
“The thought did cross my mind.”  
Sansa studied the tension in her sister’s back. Her tough, muscular sister seemed so out-of-sorts in her dress, yet the black brought out the paleness in her skin.  
“What persuaded you that I wasn’t trapping you?”  
Arya turned around to face her sister and leaned against the desk, “I didn’t.”  
Sansa’s face scrunched up, “But...you came even though you thought I was trapping you?”  
Arya looked out at the courtyard, then at the Lannister colors, then down at the floor. Anywhere except her sister's face, “I figured that the chance of you tricking me was worth seeing you.”   
Then she went around the desk to sit down, “And now I’m trapped here. And I don’t even want to see you.”  
Tears clogged Sansa’s throat for a minute before she was able to swallow them, “I’m sorry, Arya. I thought he was going to kill you.”  
Arya’s eyes were hard, even if they did not meet Sansa’s, “I’m the daughter of his Hand. He couldn’t have killed me. He would have banished me from King’s Landing, and I would have made my way to the North. That was the plan.”  
Realization dawned on Sansa. “I-I didn’t realize that….He...he couldn’t have killed you. Father wouldn’t have let him.”  
Arya started to organize papers on her desk, “Do us both a favor, Sansa. Don’t talk to me any more than you have to at tea. Don’t make this day any worse than it already is.”


	7. What is a Name Worth?

Sansa stood at the door, as her sister started to shuffle the papers in front of her. When she placed her hand on the doorknob, she took a deep breath, “The reason that I came here was to tell you to be careful. People...they do not like you here.”  
Arya’s eyes rose from the papers, “Nobody likes me here.”  
Sansa stood facing the door, “I do. I know you want nothing to do with me. But I still want you happy. I still want you safe.”  
The shuffling stopped, “Am I safe here?” Arya’s voice was small.  
Sansa’s was smaller, “I don’t know.”

(*&*)

“Lord Varys,” Lord Eddard said, catching up to the robed eunuch as he left the council meeting.  
“Lord Eddard.”  
“I wondered what you knew of the queen’s role.”  
“Ah, concerned for your daughter, my lord?”  
“Any father would. But I wondered...I wondered what the role entails.”  
“A thankless job, I suppose. But necessary, none the less. They tend to the castle, the kitchens, the gardens. None of their work goes noticed unless it’s done wrong. And even then, it is to complain.”  
“My daughter. No matter what she says, she ruled Bear Island the way that King Robert should rule the kingdoms.”  
Lord Varys laughed, “You act as if I do not know what your child has been up to. My little birds have tweeted excitedly about her long before King Robert was told of her bravery.”  
Ned studied him, “And how would you know of when Robert heard of my daughter?”  
Varys smiled, “Many men have come in and out of power, yet I remain, searching for what is best for Westeros. Your daughter Sansa is a beautiful girl, but enemies gather around us at every gate. Prince Gendry’s claim is not as solid as we think, the grounds shift around us and even the little birds whisper nervously of the rising Lannister hatred.”  
Lord Varys shrugged, “Gendry is a strong boy, but he needed someone with prestige and experience by his side. And, most importantly, he needed someone as far away from Cersei Lannister as possible.”  
Ned’s face turned red, “And you think that Sansa is like her?”  
Varys continued down the corridor, not caring if Ned followed him, though the man did. “I think both of your daughters have both of Cersei’s flaws: whom they love… and, of course, their father.”  
“Their father?”  
“The only way either of your daughters make their way in this world is if they make their own way. They cannot depend on you to solve all of their problems. If they do, they may find that people will topple their empires, much like you destroyed Cersei’s.”  
“I destroyed Cersei because of her sins and her disloyalty.”  
Varys sighed, “Some would say that each of your daughters may be doing the same thing. Sinning and disloyalty.”  
Ned’s face scrunched up, “What are you talking about?”  
Lord Varys studied him, “I think it’s best that I keep the future queen’s secrets a secret. Whichever one that may be.”

(*&*)

“Lady Arya!” Luck said, taking Arya by the arm as she entered the garden. The Lannister ignored the equally disgruntled wolf and friend on either side of Arya as she led her to a table full of ladies and gossip.  
“I’m just so happy that you are here! You see, I didn’t know if you were coming. I heard that lady-like activities were not really your place, but I told the ladies that, surely, the rumors were wrong, didn’t I, ladies?”  
The others at the table nodded and Luci laughed, “Sansa told us that you would be as wild as your wolf, but I knew that the king would not make you the future queen if he did not think that you were ready for the job. How do you like the role of queen?”  
Arya looked to where Sansa stood talking to Margaery and had looked over at the table at the sound of her name.  
She crossed her legs at the ankle and placed her hands into her lap, “I think I’ll like it quite well.”  
Lady Luci smiled brightly, “What have you been doing today? I’m sure you’ve been quite busy. Someone told me that you practice with your little dagger every day for at least two hours. But don’t worry, I told them that now you had more important things to do than little hobbies.”  
Arya inwardly calculated, “It’s a sword actually. And that little hobby has killed over a hundred men.”  
Luci’s smile disappeared for a moment before returning even brighter, “I’m sure your quite accomplished in many ways when it comes to the body.”  
Arya’s eyes flashed, “You’ve heard a great many things about me. I would wonder what your sources are. And how reliable they are.”  
Luci laughed, “Oh, they’re just rumors, I’m sure.”  
Arya sat back in her chair. She smiled at Mya sitting beside her and stretched her hand out to pet Nymeria, “You know, Dear Luci. I’ve heard a great deal about you as well.”  
Luci’s smile seemed to shift, “Have you? All the way up in the Northern wilderness without a proper society.”  
Arya leaned closer, “Of course, my dear. Everyone knows of the woman who tried unsuccessfully to seduce the prince.”  
Luscious leaned forward until they were an inch away, “Who says that it was unsuccessful, my dear?”  
Arya’s face fell and her stomach twisted.  
It seemed like this day could not get any worse. She was stuck in a job that she gave her no power and also had no power to change the job. Her father had ignored her concerns. Her sister sought her out, only to tell her that her life may be in danger, and now, what seemed like the final straw, she learned that she may not even be able to depend on Gendry,  
Because it was Gendry that had told her about Lady Luci. He had warned her between moans and burying his hands in her hair that the Lannister was not to be trusted. That she had tried in vain to get him into bed and had been vicious to him ever since she realized that she would not be successful.  
Arya felt her face turn red from betrayal as the green monster in her stomach howled of what she refused to believe was jealousy.  
Arya jumped at the hand on her shoulder. It was Lady Olenna.  
“I wanted to see if you would join me at my table, Lady Arya.”  
Lady Arya cleared her throat, “I would be happy to, Lady Olenna.” She smiled at Luci and the other ladies, “If you’ll excuse me.”  
She got up before the ladies could say a word and Mya entertained them with a tale of the prince that soon had the ladies forgetting of the conversation that had just transpired.  
Nymeria and Arya marched up the stairs to the balcony table where Lady Olenna, Sansa, and Margaery now sat.  
When Arya got to the top of the stairs, she turned to Nymeria, “Stay here, girl.”  
“Not at all,” Lady Olenna called, “We of Highgarden are quite used to wolves now. She is most welcome at our table.”  
With that, Arya and Nymeria both took a seat, Nymeria laying down by Arya’s feet.  
“How do you like King’s Landing, Lady Arya?”  
“I find it to be full of vipers.”  
Olenna leaned back, “You really are just as blunt as your father, aren’t you? Probably more. It won’t serve you well here, I can tell you that.”  
Arya took a scone from the table. She tore it apart and threw part of it into the air. Suddenly, there was Nymeria, jumping up with her great strength and snapping her jaws around the small piece in midair.   
“I have other things that will serve me well, Lady Olenna.”  
Olenna smirked into her tea, “Ah, yes. Intimidation. Let me remind you, dear, that, as queen, the only power you hold will never let you intimidate anyone. You’ll find that getting their love will serve you better than getting their fear.”  
“I don’t need any of them.”   
Olenna sighed, “Your sister told me that you were smart.”  
“I’m smart enough to know that vipers sit in wait amongst the flowers.”  
“That, at least, is true.” Lady Olenna said, “A lot of things lie in wait where plants bloom. Power likes to hide where beautiful things grow. No one expects them to be there, you see. It gives them the element of surprise.”  
Arya smiled a powerful, almost jaded, smile, “The Iron Legion had the element of surprise as well.”  
Olenna sat back, “I feel, maybe, that we got off on the wrong foot. Congratulations on your engagement.”  
Arya remained quiet.  
Margaery gave a nervous smile across Sansa at Arya. She reached to shake her hand, “Yes, congratulations. I’m Margaery. I have to say that I’m very excited to meet you. I’ve always wanted to meet the sister that Sansa was so proud of. She talked endlessly about how well you were doing at Bear Island to anyone that would listen. When you sent her letters, she made my brother Loras explain all of the sword moves that were in them. She even tried a couple herself.”  
Margaery’s eyes drifted to Sansa, “You’ve made your sister very proud of how you have taken care of Lyanna and Bear Island. I hope you know that.”  
Arya wanted to roll her eyes, but smiled anyway, “Thank you, Lady Margaery.”  
“Oh, just Margaery, please. And I understand that you don’t like being called a lady?”  
Arya nodded, feeling something in herself ease.  
Margaery smiled, a real smile this time, “Then I’ll call you Arya, at least in private.”  
Lady Olenna nodded, “Yes, I think that would be a good start. We’ve known your sister for so long that it would only feel natural.  
“Will you tell us about Bear Island?” Olenna’s smile was poisonous, “I am most curious about the people there. I’ve heard that they are quite the...unruly type.”

(*&*)

Lady Catelyn Stark unrolled the letter from her daughter and read it slowly, piecing everything together.  
“What is it, mother?” Lord Robb asked, eyeing the peculiar gaze Catelyn looked at the scroll with.  
“It’s Arya.”  
“What monumental change has she made to Bear Island this time?”  
Catelyn looked up from the letter, “She’s not in Bear Island.”  
Robb seemed confused, “Where is she then?”  
“She’s in King’s Landing. Your father sent for both of your sisters to see which one would marry the prince. Without consulting me.”

Robb looked at his mother, “He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t bring both Arya and Sansa to King’s Landing without you being aware of it. Much less for a possible betrothal.”  
“It seems that he did it, nonetheless.”  
“What will you do?”  
“I ride out tonight.” Catelyn decided. “Arya needs her mother. And I need to protect the Stark name.”


	8. How Do You Unmake a Bitch?

“Prince Gendry,” Lord Varys said, as the others left the council room for a break. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you for a moment.”  
Gendry watched the door shut behind Lord Stannis and then he turned to The Spider. “Make it quick. Everyone will be back in a couple of minutes.”  
“Then, I have your permission to be blunt?”  
Gendry waved a permissive hand at him.  
“The men of the council are not as they seem. I’m afraid violence might come from them.”  
“Directed towards me?” Gendry asked.  
“You are in a peculiar position. You are a bastard, brought here because Robert wanted the crown to go to you and not to either of his brothers. Now, you will marry a girl that your father wants. To be brief, Your Grace, the men of the small council think you weak. They think that if King Robert wanted you to you would pitch yourself off of a roof. They do not take kindly to weakness, and they do not take kindly to bastards. They think that Stannis should be king, and that you should not even be considered for the position, considering that you are a bastard and not even the oldest son of the bastards.”  
Gendry took all of this information in, “Father told me that he picked me because he thought I would make a good ruler. He said out of all of his bastards, I was the one with the most promise.”  
Varys looked a little forlorn, “You are the heir to the Iron Throne because Robert needed an heir quickly to keep any riots away. You were in the city, and you were the closest bastard that he could think of.”  
Gendry sat heavily into a chair. He was stunned. “I’ve lived this high-born life for so long now, and I’ve tried to succeed at everything. I tried to do my best at everything because if my father saw something… then there must be something.”  
Lord Varys stepped closer to the table, “Forgive me, Your Grace, but this is not the time to look weak. They will have your head if you do not establish yourself as someone who leads, who does not follow. You must show everyone that you are not to be pushed around. You must show everyone that you can be the warrior that your father used to be.”  
“Or what?” Gendry asked, “What will they do?”  
“They will rebel. They will raise armies. Smallfolk will die. And then they will slaughter you and everyone associated with you. You will die. Your wildling and her pet will die.”  
“I’ve known Arya for not even a full day yet.”  
Lord Varys smiled, “We both know that was a lie. And either way it won’t matter to them. She was linked to you forever the moment your father said you would marry her. Even if you marry someone else, Arya Stark will still be there living in your shadow. In the back of everyone’s mind, they will always wonder if she is the one pulling the strings. Just another master to make you a puppet.”  
“She won’t. She wouldn’t do that.”  
“You seem to have all the confidence in the world in her. And yet none in yourself. That will be your downfall, Prince Gendry. Your loyalty to a woman you just met outweighs your belief in your ability to rule the kingdoms, and that shows. Don’t look like a puppet, Your Grace.”  
Lord Renly walked back into the council room, the first of many to return to the meeting.  
Lord Varys smiled, “Just give the issue some thought. I’m sure you’ll find a good solution.”  
Gendry forced a smile, “Yes, thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

(*&*)

Arya slipped out of the tea party the minute she felt she could and leaned against the wall. She did not like the backhanded compliments and the outright denial of her position. It was tiring, and the words whispered behind her back seemed to pile onto her shoulders. No, she did not like drowning in the gossip of the court, especially when the topic of the day was her. Her and her multiple ineptitudes. Everything was different here than in the North. There Arya had worked off of the initial impression that she knew what she was doing. Everyone had just assumed when she had arrived at Bear Island that she would become a good leader. Ned’s daughter could be nothing less. And for the most part, she had not let them down. She had come to the island at nine years old. At eleven, she was an accomplished swordswoman. At twelve, she was learning the ropes of government in Dacey’s shadow. At fourteen, she was a junior advisor. At sixteen, she was placed in Lyanna’s service to train the young future lady. At seventeen, Dacey was dead and the Iron Islands attacked. And Arya had become the leading advisor and an experienced war strategist within a month’s time.   
Arya was good. She knew how to build villages from scratch within two weeks. She knew how to create irrigation for crops. She knew what it meant to mediate disputes between smallfolk and lords. She knew what it meant to drive a sword through a man’s chest and light their skin on fire. Arya was good.   
She governed like her father, with justice and fairness and productivity. She knew how to problem solve. She knew how to enact change.   
Then, she got stuck playing queen.  
She could not solve these problems. She could not make that productive. She could not enact change. She was stuck in a woman’s position, with no one but Mya to help her.   
She thought briefly of having Nymeria corner the king until he agreed to make her changes. Then she shook her head. Arya did not think King Robert would take that very well.   
But there was someone that would have to listen. Nymeria could not corner the king. But his son could. Her betrothed. Arya’s mind tripped over the word, but it was right. If she talked to him publicly, then he couldn’t ignore her or wave her off. He could not be seen invalidating his betrothed, especially so soon after their engagement.  
She stood up straight and her eyes shifted towards the council room. After all, she thought, he owes me for lying about fucking Luci.

(*&*)

“I like her,” Margaery whispered to Sansa.  
Sansa sighed, irritated that her sister had charmed yet another person, “Everyone likes her.”  
“Well, would you rather me not like her?”  
Sansa met Margaery’s eyes and smiled a little, “No. Besides, she’s pretty great.”  
“Yes.” Lady Olenna leaned back, “She’s a good person. Which means the office of the queen will either crush her or…”  
“Or?” Sansa asked.  
“Or she’ll crush the office.” Olenna smiled a little, “The latter would be very interesting to watch. Very interesting indeed.”  
The older woman looked out over the ocean and the two younger girls met each other's eyes.

(*&*)

Arya looked like a proper lady, even when she barged into the council chamber with a wolf by her side. Her black dress swung behind her and a soft smile plastered to her face.  
“Forgive me, my lords.” her gaze was soft, “I was hoping that I might talk to Prince Gendry about something quickly.”  
“Arya,” Lord Eddard warned.  
“We’re in the middle of a meeting,” Prince Gendry declared.   
“This will only take a minute. I need an audience with your father.”  
Gendry scoffed, “Why would you need to see my father? He’s ruling a kingdom, as am I, in case you have forgotten.”  
“Your palace is leaking thousands of gold coins a year. I think he would want to know that.”  
Gendry sat back, but he couldn’t seem to help the quick, furtive glance around the room, “I don’t think he would care. Now, leave.”  
Arya’s face started to grow red, “The reason that Bear Island’s economy works so well is because we don’t waste money or resources.” She leaned over the council table and sneered at Gendry, “I’m telling you that you are wasting thousands of coins that could go to helping people, or, Gods forbid, getting our country out of the extreme debt that it’s in. That’s no way to govern the kingdoms and if you are not up to the challenge then maybe I should do it for you!”   
Silence fell over the council room and Lord Eddard buried his face in his hand.  
“You need to leave, Lady Arya. Now.”  
Arya’s eyes grew, “Are you understanding what I’m saying?!”  
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Gendry yelled. His hands slammed on the table and everyone in the room jumped. Before she knew it, Gendry was towering over her, “I will not have a woman telling me what to do in my kingdoms and I will rule them as I see fit.” Gendry began to back Arya towards the door. Nymeria gave a low growl of warning, even as her mistress continued to back slowly away, “You may have ruled up in the North on your little island, but I rule down here on this continent! You do not have the final say now. You do not have any command over me. You do not have any power unless I give it to you.”  
Arya stood against the shut door. Nymeria’s growl became louder as her mistress was cornered.  
Gendry placed his hands on either side of her head, “Is that clear, Arya?” Arya looked defiantly away, and Prince Gendry’s face got even closer, “I said: Is that clear?”  
“Yes.” Arya’s voice was barely a whisper, almost inaudible over the growling.  
“Now get that beast under control.” Gendry ordered still not backing away.  
Without looking into Gendry’s eyes, Arya waved a hand. Nymeria’s growling stopped.  
Gendry let his hands come off the wood and turned around. He did not want to see the way Arya fled from the room, her wolf padding a half step behind her. He hoped that he had not crushed her.  
Renly smiled as the door slammed shut behind Lady Arya. “I hear that when a wolf submits, they don’t look you in the eye.” Gendry’s uncle laughed, “I do believe that you have just made yourself a bitch out o her, Prince Gendry.”  
Everyone except Gendry and Ned laughed.

(*&*)

No one saw Arya for the rest of the day. She was not at dinner. When Gendry had asked her sister where Arya was, she had only shrugged. “I suppose she’s still at work. Being queen is a hard job, you know.”  
“Yeah,” Gendry had replied, “I do know.”  
He had looked for her in her office, only to find Mya. His sister was there, cleaning up after what looked like a hurricane. Mya was picking up ripped Lannister banners and organizing the papers strewn across the floor. In the courtyard, a potter plant was knocked over and trampled, the pot broken into several pieces.  
When his sister saw him, she let go of the banner and sighed, “Oh, Gendry. What did you do?”  
“Where is she?”  
Mya shook her head, “Your guess is as good as mine. I found the office like this just now.”  
Fear struck through Gendry’s heart. She wouldn’t have run away, right? But then the letter she had tried to send Lyanna. Of course she would.  
“Gendry?” Mya asked.  
“I messed up. I think I really messed up.”  
“What did you do?”   
“I-I need to go and find her. Before it’s too late. I need to find her. Can you make excuses for us? And clean this up?”  
“Of course. Why are you still here? Go!”


	9. We'll Sit and Watch the World Burn

Gendry did not know where he was going. He just knew that he had to run. He just knew that he had to stop Arya before she got too far down the King’s Road. If she got too far, especially riding Nymeria, Gendry would never catch up with her. His heart seemed to be beating out of his chest. He should have never had yelled at her. He should not have used her to establish that he could be king. He should never have made her feel less than she was.  
All of those things he said weren’t to her. They were to the council. And yet, she was the one he had pressed up against the wall. He remembered the way that she had refused to meet his eyes. And the slam of the door when she had left.  
He swung a left into a servant’s chamber and went into the bowels of the castle towards the kitchen and the stables.   
Yet, everything he had said was true. Unfortunately. The queen’s power did come from her husband. Her prestige did come from the king. And Arya would never be able to hold the power that she did in the North. And she would never get the recognition that she deserved.   
Gendry slowed. Maybe, he thought, maybe she is better running. Maybe she would be happier leaving. Leaving me.  
Gendry sunk to the ground by the kitchens. On her island. Ruling by Lyanna’s side she would be happy.Gendry scoffed. Father would understand.   
But, no. No, his father wouldn’t understand. In fact, his father would do everything in his power to get Gendry back his Stark betrothed. The wars that Robert would make just to follow the youngest Stark daughter. Gendry’s father would rip apart Bear Island. It did not matter that he could still have the Stark alliance with a marriage through Sansa. Once Robert heard that Arya had run away, the king’s mind would get stuck one her. Arya would become the new Lyanna, and Robert would not rest until she was back in the Red Keep as Gendry’s wife.  
Gendry’s hands covered his face. He did not know how far she had run, how long ago she had left. And even if he were a good ride, his horse would never catch up with a direwolf.  
There would be war. A war with Bear Island, possibly even the North, and all because he blew up in Arya’s face for something that wasn’t even her fault.   
Gendry was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely felt the presence in front of him until he felt the sniffing against his hand. He took his hands away from his face to see...Nymeria.  
“How are you here?” Gendry asked. In response, Nymeria tilted her head. Gendry looked at how close the wolf was to him and remembered the way that she had growled at him while he was cornering her mistress. “You could have killed me.”  
Nymeria huffed and went to lay against the kitchen door.  
Gendry got onto his hands and knees, “If you’re here, then….”  
He looked at the kitchen doors. The door gave easily once he unlatched it, and Nymeria bumped it, slamming it into the wall with a swing. She rushed further into the kitchen, where the ovens were. Gendry followed her, and heard the familiar voice talking to the wolf.  
“How did you get in here? You shouldn’t see me like this.”  
When Gendry entered the oven room, he found Hot Pie kneading dough to go into the oven, a fresh batch already placed in the oven. Near his work table, sat Lady Arya. Her dress was discarded in the corner. She sat in an underdress, barely clinging to her shoulders. She held a bottle of Dornish wine, an empty bottle of wine. She was a glorious mess, an absolute sensation of drunkenness and intelligence.   
Her eyes slid lazily to his, “You shouldn’t be here either.”  
“I thought you would be halfway to the North by now,” Gendry said, sliding into the seat next to her.  
Hot Pie looked up at both of them, before going back to kneading the dough.  
“Me too,” Arya said, raising the bottle to her lips. She quickly realized that it was empty and slammed it down on the table. She kicked Gendry with her foot. “The wine cellar is in there.”  
“I don’t like wine,” Gendry replied.  
Arya scoffed, “It’s not for you, fucker. Go get it.”  
Gendry got up and searched the cellar for the wine that was likely to do the least damage.   
“I know it sounds bad, but she’s just trying to be independent,” Hot Pie said, “You can’t really blame her.”  
“No, no. I don’t blame her,” Arya insisted, “I’m just...she doesn’t want me there. She doesn’t need me there.”  
“That’s what happens. Kids grow up. Then, they tend to want to see if they don’t need you. So, they pull away.”  
“She’s my friend. Not my kid. Shouldn’t she want me?”  
Hot Pie shrugged as Gendry came out of the cellar. Arya and the baker fell silent as Gendry sat the bottle down in front of Arya.   
Arya struggled to open the bottle, as Gendry stared at her.  
“I wanted to say that I was sorry. For what I did to you.”  
“But not for what you said,” Arya pointed a finger at him.  
Gendry bowed his head, “What I said… unfortunately, it’s true. The queen’s position is powerless without the king. You will hold no real power. That’s why my father was able to depose Cersei.”  
Arya lifted his face with her hand. Her face was flushed, but steel pierced through her eyes and words, “I hold my own power. I come from the North, a kingdom that can swallow all of your others and still be hungry. I have a powerful name and a powerful, strong family that would do anything for me. I have a whole island of people that would fall on a sword rather than see me cry. I have gained allies all over the world and experience from all walks of life. I have been through war and I have bloodied my sword. I have burned people alive and made others freeze to death in a cellar.”  
Her grip became stronger on his face, “Make no mistake, Prince Gendry. I may not hold as much power as you, but I do hold more loyalty. If you don’t think that I can burn your rule to the ground, then you haven’t been paying attention. You are an untried soldier, a green war strategist, and an apprentice governor.”  
She released his face and went back to her bottle, “I have more power than anyone dreams me possible. If I were a man, then I would be the best lord that anyone has seen in a millenium. Since I’m a woman, I am an oddity.”  
Gendry studied her closer, “If that’s how you feel, then why did you react the way you did in the council room?”  
“Because.” She took a long drag from her bottle and stared at the bread in the over, flames dancing in her eyes, “I did not realize that you would act like that. I thought you were...Never mind,” she met his eyes, “I won’t make that mistake again.  
“I’ve realized that I will be alone for this whole month. I will be surrounded by people I can’t trust and plans to make me feel less than I am. I will just suffer until I can go back to Bear Island. If I can.”  
Gendry’s eyebrows scrunched, “Why wouldn’t you be able to go back?”  
Arya’s eyes clouded.  
Hot Pie looked up, “You don’t have to tell him, but, for what it’s worth, I think you should.”  
Arya’s lips rubbed together, “Lyanna… apparently, my father had sent her a letter explaining my situation, and she sent me one back. It said that I shouldn’t rush back or act rashly. She said that she wanted to see if she could run Bear Island on her own.”  
Gendry suddenly understood the discussion she and Hot Pie were having while he went to get the bottle.  
“She wanted independence,” he stated.  
Arya nodded. Tears came to her eyes and clogged her throat, “I’m very proud of her. But it means that I am stuck here.”  
Gendry put his hand on hers, and she slipped it away.  
“Arya,” Gendry wiped a hand over his face, “If you had run...my father would have never let you run off. He would have brought you back, and you would have married me the same night of your capture.”  
Arya met his eyes. “I see.”  
She took a long drag from her wine bottle, “What a shitty day.”  
Gendry tried to slip her hair behind her ear, and she turned her head so that he couldn’t.  
He sighed, “Tomorrow will be better.”  
Arya’s smile was mischievous, “Oh. Better does not even begin to cover it.” She stood, clumsily from her chair and slung her dress over her shoulder. She waved at Hot Pie with the bottle of wine in her hand, “Goodbye, my friend. I will see tomorrow. Bright and early.”  
“Should I escort you back to your rooms?” Gendry asked.  
Arya laughed bitterly, “I don’t think you’ll be coming to my rooms for a long time. Who knows what you’ll bring in.”

(*&*)

Arya found Hot Pie before the sun had risen, sitting on the wall in the courtyard. “Why did you let me drink that last bottle of wine?”  
“I didn’t!” Hot Pie said as she climbed the wall, “That was Gendry’s fault! He was the one that gave it to you!”  
She sat down beside him and took some of the bread that Hot Pie had made the night before, “I’ll add it on my list of things to blame him for.”  
“He’s trying his best, you know?” Hot Pie handed her some ale, “What he did… I’ve known Gendry for quite some time, and he’s never been like that with anyone. Sure, he’s an ass and he’s a little broody, but his heart is good.” He looked down at the empty courtyard, “He’ll be a good king. And a good husband. I want him to be happy, just like I want you to be happy.”  
“I could never be happy with him. He’s a liar and a manipulator.”  
Hot Pie’s eyebrows shot up, “What did he lie to you about?”  
“He told me that he didn’t sleep with Luci Lannister, and she says that he did.”  
“Gendry wouldn’t sleep with her! He ducks into my kitchens just to escape her!”  
Arya’s hands flew up into the air, “Well, then, why would she tell me that they did? If that rumor got out, if I had told everyone that she had willingly slept with someone out of wedlock, then her prospects would dry up in an instant. All of her status, all of her honor. She would destroy that for a lie?”  
“Maybe she thought you wouldn’t tell anyone, and wanted to throw you off. Or maybe…”  
Arya leaned in, “Or?”  
“Well… the Lannisters have lost a lot of their status since the bastards were found. I wouldn’t be surprised if Luci did not have any prospects. She might just be...desperate.”  
“She does not seem desperate.”  
“And you don’t seem lonely.”  
Arya’s head snapped to Hot Pie’s, her eyes big and vulnerable.  
Hot Pie shrugged, “I’m just saying. A lot of people aren’t like they seem. Seeing things for what they are is hard. Remembering what they are is even harder. Isn’t that why we’re here?”  
Arya nodded, “I hope this goes as I hope it will.”  
“It’s a brilliant plan, and considering it only had half a day to be planned, it has already been a success.”  
Hot Pie smiled up at the still-silent, dark castle, “All a thousand servants gone. No one helping ladies into gowns. No one emptying chamber pots. No one lighting fires. No one changing sheets. No one in the kitchens cooking the lords and ladies food. Don’t worry, Arry. It will goes just as you planned.”  
Hot Pie sighed happily, “They’ll know not to take your work or the servants’ work for granted. People will know what it will be like to live without ladies’ work by the end of today. Until that happens....their world will go to all the levels of Hell.”


	10. Not Worthy of the Shit on Your Shoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentioned that the chapters were hard to read because there were no spaces between the paragraphs. Hopefully, this helps and I will go back and replace the other chapters with better spaces.   
> Enjoy, and tell me if you liked it!

As the castle woke up, it woke up to absolute and utter chaos. Sansa watched the women call for maids and then realize that they were not coming. They all ran around in their sleeping clothes in various levels of dress to find someone that could help them into their corset. There was no food laid out on tables or handmaidens to tell anyone what they were supposed to be doing. The water was old. Chamber pots quickly overflowed. And the fine lords and ladies scrambled to complete every-day, normal tasks. No one knew what was going on and the noise in the usually quiet castle roared to a fever-pitch. 

Sansa stayed in the room to avoid the multiple women panicking over the men seeing them undressed. Sansa herself could not tie the corset up by herself and she stood with it in her hand. 

Margaery, with her hair in disarray and her dress thrown over her shoulder, flung the door open, “What in the world is happening?”

Sansa sighed, eyeing Margaery’s thin nightdress, “Hello to you too.”

Margaery sighed, shaking her head, motioning for Sansa to turn, “Your sister must be going out of her mind trying to figure out what is going on.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s perfectly fine right now,” Sansa sucked in a breath as Margaery tightened the corset.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m almost certain that she’s behind this.”

“It’s the queen’s job to make sure that everything runs smoothly. Why would she purposefully do the opposite?”

“My guess? She thinks this is her ticket back to the North.” Sansa sighed, “She might just lose her head for it. We need to do damage control.”

(*&*)

Arya realized how much of a success her plan was when a chamberpot flew out a window and onto an undressed lady’s head. She watched as the young lady pried the bucket off of her head and spit piss and shit onto the ground. 

“Seven,” Hot Pie shouted as he watched the woman lay in the dirt and waste crying.  
“Isn’t this getting out of hand, Arry?”

Arya’s face was cold, “No, I want everyone to hear what happened. I want it to look like a battlefield.”

Hot Pie looked at her, “You’re going to get into really big trouble for this, aren’t you?”

King Robert walked out of the castle, his face a bright red.

“Undoubtedly.”

(*&*)

“Look around you,” King Robert told Arya, sweeping a hand across the room, “This is the havoc you have created. Ladies in undergarments, bellies empty, everyone’s feet caked in shit, and you are the cause.”

The Great Hall was filled with the lords and ladies of the land, all in various levels of disarray. And they were all mad at her. Even his father had his head in his hands. 

The only people curiously missing from the Hall were Sansa and Gendry. Again, that green monster reared its head in Arya’s stomach.

“I did not think that any Stark could stoop to such immaturity!” King Robert roared.

“Don’t blame my family for this. This was out of necessity.”

“Why in any world would this be necessary?”

“Your small council was under the impression that a woman’s work was not important. I showed them wrong at the same time as getting what I wanted. Now, I have your attention and you know how important a woman’s work is.”

The doors swung open and Gendry walked in with Sansa following at a distance. Arya eyed the dress that Sansa was in. A brilliant white compared to the dirty dresses Arya had seen. It was even cleaner than Arya’s shirt and pants. 

“It’s about time!” King Robert blubbered. “Do you know what she’s done?”

“I have eyes, Father.” Gendry looked Arya up and down, “You look good.”

Arya was shocked to find him so mellow. Behind him, Sansa met her sister’s eyes. There was a spark in them that Arya knew very well. It was the spark her sister had when she knew something that she did not. It was the look that she had after she and Jeyne had swapped gossip. After Sansa had heard her mother tell Septa something.

Arya had grown to hate that look when she was younger, but this time...this time it was different. There was no malice in her eyes, no irritation. There was only the thrill of knowing something that no one else had. Arya may get a thrill from governing, but Sansa got a thrill from knowing. She would make a great spy is she ever wanted to. She had the right demeanor for it, the right wants. 

“I know that we have not been kind to you,” Gednry told Arya loud enough for the Hall to hear. “I know that we took you away from your Lyanna. We took you away from the place you’ve always know and the people you have always loved. I know that you had no choice and I know that we were unkind. We made you think that you were less than you were.

“I realize now that I was wrong to ignore you. Wrong to yell at you for trying to make a difference. You were trying to make our lives better, just like you did at Bear Island, and we made you feel like you were not important. I made you feel like you were not important.

“You will have to forgive us, Arya. It has been a long time since we have seen women like you. It’s been a long time since people have shown us that things could be better and not just the same. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a queen that puts people before reputation, progress before tradition.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a warrior queen.”

Arya was stunned when Gendry held out his hand for her to shake. She took it in hers.

“Thank you for reminding us that progress should come first. And that we should respect everyone and their job here at the castle.”

Gendry turned to the lords and ladies gathered in the Hall. “Today, Lady Arya has shown us something very important. She has shown us what it would it means to run a castle. She has shown us what it would be like if the queen and all those under her weren’t there. Beyond that, she has shown us that nothing should stand in the way of progress. Today, when you see that no one is tending to the halls, making the beds, preparing your dinner, remember this lesson. 

“I, for one, will not forget it. Which is why I will give Lady Arya the free reign that she needs to make change around her. Any changes that you would like to do,” he told Arya, his face sincere, “You can make them. If anyone has a problem with that, then they can bring it up with me. I would also like to offer you a place at the small council to acknowledge your expertise and experience in governing the people.

“Thank you, my queen, for the many things that you do for us. And the millions of things that you will do for us.” Gendry turned to the lords and ladies, “I would suggest you all thank her and all of the ladies for their hard work.”

Gendry turned back to Arya, lowering his voice, “We’ll talk later tonight. I would suggest that you get everyone back here for work tomorrow.”

Arya nodded, “I will.”

Gendry leaned closer, “What did you do with Lord Rykker?”

“Mya.”

Gendry bowed deeply with a smile on his face before leaving the Hall. Behind him, men lined up to shake Arya’s hand or bow to her. They thanked her for her work. They thanked her for the lesson.

Arya was awestruck the entire time. She stared at Gendry’s back. He had made a crowd go from wishing her dead to wishing to kiss the dirt off her shoes. Arya's heart grew with something that felt like pride. Maybe, just maybe, wouldn't be a bad king after all. Maybe, just maybe, he would be someone that she could support and be proud to stand by.


	11. With None the Wiser

Lady Olenna met Sansa’s eyes across the long line of people thanking Arya. Olenna’s eyes shot to the side, and Sansa moved to go where she had gestured. A few minutes later, Olenna moved there as well.

“That was very good, Sansa. Getting a prince to do anything is hard, but you managed it with grace.”

“I did not do much. I just warned him that if he was mad at her it would give everyone else a reason to shun her. I told him that he had to be calm. He did the rest.”

Olenna nodded, “Good. That is your job. You are his adviser and his ears. And you helped your sister along the way.”

Sansa sighed, “Yes. I don’t know what she was thinking. A stunt like that could have completely damaged her reputation.”

Olenna looked at the future princess, “Maybe she thought that she did not have a reputation to damage.”

Sansa glanced at her sister as if she were seeing her for the first time.

(*&*)

Arya left her door open that night. She was hopeful that Gendry would come like he said he would, and even more hopeful that he would feel the same way that he did earlier that day. She prayed that he would not say one thing to her in front of everyone else and another in private, and, yet, she knew how politics worked. She knew how the game of politics worked. She knew how two-faced people could be, and, yet, he had been kind and understanding. He had seen what she had done, and wasn’t mad. He had not bemoaned her, had not yelled. He had not cornered her either. He had seen the stunt she had pulled and gave her what she needed. He had met her halfway, more than halfway. No queen had ever sat at the small council. They were never asked to be advisors. They were to make heirs and keep the castle, and Gendry had made sure she got a say in governing. 

Arya realized with a start that Gendry had changed her role completely. She was no longer just playing at being queen but also at being an advisor. If she stayed, if she married Gendry, she could permanently change the role of queen. She could give herself, and other ladies, real power. Arya could be the one to make the woman important too. 

When the door opened, Arya swung around expecting to see that great oaf of a man. Instead of Gendry, Sansa walked through the door. She took a minute to take in the circular, red room before returning her eyes to her sister.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said, “I know that you don’t want to see me, but I had to make sure you were alright.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Arya asked.

“Because of what you did today.”

“I’m fine,” the words slipped off Arya’s tongue.

“Why did you do that? That could have ended with your head on a platter.!”

“You seem to think that I am incompetent, that I cannot hold my own weight, but I can Sansa. I got myself out of this, just as I could have gotten myself out of court the day I arrived. Before you stepped in.”

“You did not get yourself out of this, Arya. I did. When I found Prince Gendry, he was furious. I made him see this scandal for what it was. I calmed him down. I’m the reason he reacted the way he did.”

Arya was stunned, “Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?”

Sansa threw up her hands, “Why do I have to have a reason to help my sister? Despite what you may think, Arya, I am not here to harm you or torture you. I have been trying to find ways to help you this whole time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I am here, Arya?”

“To become queen,” to Arya it was the most natural thing in the world to say. Back in Winterfell, it was all that Sansa would talk about. When she heard that she was to be queen, she had gushed over everything that she would do, all the kids she would have, how she would love Joffrey. There had been no change in Arya’s mind to her motives. 

Sansa shook her head, “Before I came here, I wrote you a letter saying that I wanted you by my side. I wanted you there because I knew I would need your help. I had no intention to marry Gendry. I was going to make moves for something else, and I wanted your help to get there. And if the plan fell through and I needed to get out of King’s Landing quickly, I knew that you would protect me with your sword.

“Later on, when you took my place as queen… I had really messed up. My plan was to give Prince Gendry someone else to marry. I spent weeks trying to get the prince’s attention, trying to gain his confidence to help him find another bride. Then, I thought the King would take your head and I did not realize… I did not realize that he was so stuck on you being queen already. I knew he had made the deal to look at us both, but I thought he could be persuaded.

“I was wrong. They will never let you return to the North unless it is with a crown on your head or your body in a casket. So, I started to make moves to make your life easier. I gained the confidence of the other ladies and got information out of them. I defended you from their attacks. I tried to warn you. Today, I defended you from Gendry’s wrath. I calmed him down and told him why you pulled the stunt.”

“I don’t understand,” Arya said, sinking into the bed, “You don’t want to be queen? Why?”

Sansa’s smile was soft, “Being queen would force me into a life that I don’t care for anymore. I don’t want to marry someone just because they are the prince. I don’t want to be a toy. I don’t want to be right in the middle of the game at the prince’s side with no real power. I don’t want to be used.”

Sansa sat on the bed and leaned in, “I don’t want to be front and center. I can influence the game just fine from the side. I like being in the know, but be inconspicuous enough that people don’t realize it.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I have become quite good at seeing the pieces of the game move, and I know how to move them myself without people realizing it. I did not come to be queen, Arya.”

Arya felt something click in her mind, “You came to be an advisor.”

“Not just any advisor. I came to watch Lord Varys work. I came to learn from afar. I came to make the ladies of the court my unknowing ‘little birds’. They know a lot more that goes on at court than they think they do. I came to be the Master of Whisperers that no one knows about and that no one expects.”

Arya studied her sister, “You’re a spy master among the ladies.”

“I am.”

“You’re a snake among the roses.”

Sansa leaned forward and whispered, “And I’m looking for a fox in the hen house.”

Arya thought back to her new seat on the council. Grey eyes met blue, both with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“I’m not supposed to be telling you this. Lady Olenna and Margaery wanted me to wait until we knew what you wanted. But could you imagine? We could be the team of the century. No one would suspect, and with you on the inside of the council and me on the outside….”

“We would know everything.” Arya realized with a start, “We would see everything. We could make real change.”

“And with none the wiser.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see it coming?  
> Sansa was always going this route. She was always going to be an absolute BAMF in this story.  
> Tell me what you think!


	12. Pack Mates

Sansa stayed for a long time that night. The sisters talked about their plans and talked about ideas. Arya had filled Sansa in on what had happened since she had arrived at the castle, including the insane rules put on the queen. She had told her sister everything except the nights she spent with Gendry. Sansa, in return, had told her what information she had gathered and promised that she would watch the ladies. Arya promised to introduce Sansa to some of the servants in the castle to extend her informants. They talked of who they could trust and who they couldn’t.

“You’re sure?” Arya had asked.

“I would trust Margaery and Lady Olenna with my life. They would be good allies to you. They would watch your back for you.”

Arya had nodded to her sister, “I would like to meet with them then.”

Sansa nodded. “We should also talk about Prince Gendry. Do you think we can trust him?”

Arya sighed, “I’ve been wondering that myself. He’s… confusing.”

Sansa studied her sister, “What’s going through your head? Has he been unkind?”

Arya thought back to how he had pinned her to the door of the small council, and then his apologetic eyes afterwards. She thought of the first night she had met him as Bull and the smile she had slipped from his lips between kisses. She thought back to how he had then given her a seat on the council and how he had gotten everyone on her side. And, yet, Sansa had made him do that. Arya really did not know what to think of this man.

“I don’t know. Yes, he was, but he seemed sorry, even when he was doing it and I wasn’t really harmed, just embarrassed and--”

“Joffrey was sorry for hitting me too.” Sansa said. “The same month that we were betrothed. I wasn’t going to tell anyone. Sandor Clegane told Father. The next week, I was off to Highgarden, away from Joffrey and you were off to Bear Island to learn how to protect yourself.”

Arya’s eyes grew, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that happened, but… it didn’t seem like that. I don’t think...I don’t know. I don’t understand him.”

Sansa put her hand on her sister’s, “I think you know him better than you would like to admit, even to yourself.”

“Well, that doesn’t help me very much, does it?”

Sansa’s eyes were curious and protective, “Do you want to stay here? Do you want to leave?”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. The king would come after me. And either way, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“He put me on the small council. No woman has sat on the small council in a century. And he let me on it. He gave me a position where I could make real change.”

“I know,” Sansa said.

“Did you tell him to do that?”

Sansa shook her head, “I explained why you pulled the stunt and told him to be calm in front of the others. That was it. He thought to give you free reign and the seat on the small council. I didn't even know you wanted free reign until you told me earlier tonight.”

“You don’t offer someone a seat to such an important council without at least respecting them, right?”

Sansa thought, “No. You don’t. And it seemed genuine. It seemed like he had thought of it himself.”

“I don’t know how to take that.”

“Okay, well then we don’t trust him until we know.”

Arya nodded.

“Would you…” Sansa seemed hesitant to ask the question, “Would you want to be queen?”

“If you had asked me two days ago, I would have said no.”

“But?”

“But he just changed the role of the queen. For me.”

Sansa smiled, “So he did.”

(*&*)

Five minutes after Sansa left, Gendry quietly entered the room.

“I’m sorry I am so late,” he told her with an earnest expression on his face, “I was here earlier, but I heard Sansa’s voice. I did not want to intrude.”

Arya stared at him. As the prince, he had the right to barge in on anything. It was what Joffrey had done. It was what his father continuously did. And yet, he had respected her privacy.

“Thank you. I needed to talk to her, I think.”

“You’ve been separated from her for so long I’m surprised you two were able to let go so long without talking. That’s how wolves work, don’t they? Where there’s one there’s also a pack?”

Arya smiled, “Something like that, yeah.”

Gendry sat down on the bed, “I’ve never really been a part of a pack. My mom died when I was quite young, and I never really had any friends or siblings. Hot Pie is really the closest thing to family that I have.”

“What about the king? He’s your father. And his brothers.”

Gendry shrugged, “My father only legitimized me to keep the crown going to either of them. He’s not really interested in me. And his brothers are pissed that I took their throne. They’re much more likely to stab me in the back than protect it. They don’t think that I would be a good king. They think that I would roll over to anyone’s demands, including yours. Lord Varys warned me that they were going to rebel and seize the throne for themselves.”

Arya studied him and she thought back to how he had cornered her in front of the small council. “That’s why you pushed back against me. To show them that you would not bow to me.”

Gendry smiled a sad smile, “Catch on quick, don’t you?”

Arya’s voice was quiet, “I thought that you weren’t the type to do that.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

“You bowed to me today. In front of everyone, you gave me exactly what I want.”

“I did.”

“Why would you do that?” Arya asked.

Gendry thought back, “I guess… I guess because it was the right thing to do. For me, for you, for the country.”

“It put you in danger though. It put your rule in danger.”

“Hopefully not. I did take some precautions. I was not the only one to bow to you today. Everyone did. I was hoping that would make it a little better for me. And I gave you a seat on the council. I was hoping that you would be able to help me come up with a way to stop them before anything drastic happened.”

Arya nodded.

“Did you…” she stopped.

“Did I what?”

She studied him, “Did you sleep with Luci Lannister?”

Gendry looked surprised, “I told you that I didn’t.”

“I know. Did you lie about it?”

“No. Have I ever lied to you before?”

Arya was startled. She thought back to their many conversations. Hadn’t he told her that his name was Bull? No. He had never said it was his name persay, just to call him Bull. And when he cornered her in the small council room, all that he said was true.She could not remember a single lie.

“No. No, you haven’t lied.”

Gendry smiled at her, “And I never plan to. I’m forced to play the court’s game enough as it is. I don’t want to play it with you.”

Arya nodded. She would expect nothing less from him.

“I’m sorry for the stunt I pulled today. Sansa told me you were mad,” she whispered.

“I was mad, but not at you. I was mad at myself. And I’m sorry for what happened in the council room. Maybe we should just talk in private before pulling we attack each other again.”

Arya smiled, “I suppose that would be acceptable.”

Gendry laughed.

Arya took his face gently in her hand and whispered hesitantly, vulnerably, “You can be a part of my pack if you wanted to.”

Gendry looked surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”


	13. Lots of Questions

When Lord Rykker entered Arya’s office, he looked like he had been saving his anger all night. He pointed at her wildly, his face red as she placed a roll of parchment and a quill in front of him on the desk.

“I would like a list of everything that you want changed in this castle. The sooner, the better. I have until the next moon before I go back to the North. I want to get as much done as I can before then.”

Rykker stopped short. “I beg your pardon?”

Arya looked up at him, “Anything you want to do, we’ll do.”

“This is a trick.”

“If you don’t have anything--” Arya moved her hand towards the paper to pull it back across the desk.

“No, no. I have plenty!” Rykker snatched the paper from her hands and sat down at the desk. 

“I’m sorry that I asked Mia to hold you back. I knew it would be hard for you to see the castle in disarray. I hope you realize why I did that.”

Rykker scrunched his nose, “I know in theory. I do not understand in practice. It’s my job to make sure everything runs smoothly. Anything that goes against that I don’t understand.”

“And I respect that. It’s why you are good at your job. My job is to give you the opportunity to do yours the best you can, which means making these changes.”

Rykker shook his head, “I have so many changes. You said...you said you are leaving next month?”

“Yes, the prince arranged for me to have a choice. At the end of this month, I can either stay in my position and marry the prince or I can go back to the North.”

“And, you want to leave?”

Arya leaned back in her chair, “That’s a good question.”

Rykker nodded, “I have too many changes for just one month.”

“Then, I suggest we get busy.”

(*&*)

Arya and Mia walked down the hallway, looking over several papers.

“I wanted to see if there was a time to go into King’s Landing. Even if we get all of the waste minimized there will still be things we will have to throw away. However, just because they are no longer up to the king’s standards does not mean that regular people can’t use them. I’d like to get a list of the items people around the Red Keep desperately need.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

“I also want a full inventory of everything in the Red Keep. Servants, inhabitants, guards, prisoners. I’d also like a catalog of the rooms and how they are being used, and I want to know all the secret passageways and where they go. I want to know the Red Keep like the back of my hand.”

“What do you think you’ll find?” Mia asked.

Arya looked over at her friend, “Information. I’d also like to set up meetings.”

“With whom?”

Arya tilted her head, “Everyone.”

(*&*)

Arya found Prince Gendry in the training grounds. She watched as he swung his war hammer into a wood dummy. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the wood shatter into small fragments. Strength like that could, well, throw someone her size onto a bed. Something Arya knew all too well. 

Arya looked at the muddy courtyard filled with filthy, fighting men. She also looked at her crisp, wavy, layered gown Margaery had sent to her room this morning. Arya had come to King’s Landing with no gowns. Between Margaery and Sansa’s constant fluttering, she now had a whole wardrobe full. Arya thought they were all lovely, but now that she stood in the yard she remembered why she did not wear them in Bear Island. They just weren’t practical.

She took a deep breath and drew up her skirts as much as propriety let a future queen. Then she crossed the yard towards the large man. Arya cleared her throat, “Mia said you wanted to see me.”

Gendry turned and smiled at her. The others scattered around the grounds stopped to watch the interaction between their two future rulers.

“Yes,” Gendry walked to the side. Arya hesitantly followed, seeing Margeary’s frown in her head every step of the way. Gendry took a bucket off a bench and poured some water onto his head. He shook his wet hair as the water dripped onto his chest, wetting his shirt.

This man is really trying me, Arya thought.

“Mia told me you hadn’t been to the training grounds since you got here.”

“I haven’t been able to get down here.”

He smiled, “You’re here now.”

“I don’t have…” Arya watched Gendry lean over and pulled Bear’s Needle from behind the bench. She shook her head, “I’m not properly dressed.”

She peered around at all of the men, and Gendry seemed to catch on.

“I thought you didn’t care about being dirty. If I recall correctly, you were dirty when I met you.”

She looked up at him, “I don’t. But I do care about the reputation the office of the queen holds. I won’t tarnish that more than I already have.”

Gendry nodded, “Alright.”

He turned to the men, “Everyone clear out. You can come back tomorrow.”

People groaned, but still gathered their supplies. They left on their prince’s command.

Arya was shocked, “You can’t do that.”

Gendry shrugged, “I’m the prince. I might as well start acting like it.” He moved closer to her, “I meant what I said. This world will get used to seeing warrior queens again.”

“I’m not your queen yet.”

Gendry smirked, “I like the ‘yet’ in that statement.” His voice got lower, “Love it, actually.”

“It was a slip of the tongue.”

“We both know the things that tongue is capable of. Slipping isn’t one of them.”

The air suddenly seemed very hot around Arya. She was not used to this. This heat was enough to come off of a forge’s fire, and she was of the North. She was made of snow and ice, of bitter decisions made to survive the winter. Gendry seemed to be made of the heat from the forge, of Flea Bottom, of passion that came from fighting just causes. The two of them were very different. Very different indeed.

“I thought I was clear. You won’t be seeing my sheets anytime soon.”

Gendry shrugged, “I don’t need a bed.”

“Be serious.”

Gendry laughed, “Alright. I was serious about people getting used to a new type of woman. I was serious about helping raise a woman’s job and status. I was serious about making sure that you could feel like you could stay here, with me.”

Arya took Bear’s Needle from him, swinging the blade around to feel the familiar and welcome weight in her hand. “All of that will take years. Decades, maybe even centuries.”

“Then we’ll lay the groundwork. Our sons and daughters can continue our work.”

Bear’s Needle paused midswing. Arya’s voice was soft, “You are quite confident with yourself, aren’t you?”

“I mean what I say, Arya.”

“I know you do. Grab a sword.”

Gendry smiled. He laid his warhammer down and grabbed the great sword. That sword was almost as tall as Arya and was heavy. Arya wondered for a moment if Bear’s Needle could handle the blows from such a sword, but then she pushed that thought aside. She could handle anything.

They entered the middle of the arena, Arya no longer focusing on keeping her dress clean. They started to circle each other slowly, waiting for the other to strike first.

“I’m still not sure if I want to stay.”

“I know,” Gendry stated it like Arya had told him the weather. She realized that he might have been keeping a better eye on her than she thought. Suddenly, Gendry flew towards her, taking a measuring strike at her. Arya parried the blow easily. 

“This world is not meant for people like me, Gendry. This office was not meant for me.”

“So let’s change it. Let’s form it to fit you.” Arya went on the offensive, feigning to the right before striking at his left.

“We can’t just do that with everything.”

“Why not? I’m the prince.”

His sword met hers with a hard swing that sent a jolt down her arm.

“You know, you are willing to use your power for me, but not anything else.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me that people want to overthrow you, and while you could be consolidating your own power, you are consolidating mine. Why?” Gendry stopped testing her, and went on the offensive. He took several swipes at her, driving her backwards. Arya just barely managed to get her dress out of the way before she almost tripped on it.

“I suppose because I know that if I give you power, it will give me some as well, along with a powerful ally.”

“You should be doing both.” Arya drove her sword forward, making Gendry jump backwards.

“And how would I do that?”

“Start taking more responsibility. Particularly if it helps the people see you as a ruler. Right now, people still think of you as a bastard playing at being king. Prove them wrong.”

“Alright. If you do the same.”

“And, at the end of this month, if I choose to go North? And the people still think of me as their queen?”

Arya buried her free hand in her skirts to lift them up as she drove Gendry across the yard.

“We’ll handle that when we get there.”

“You refuse to plan on a future where I am not here.”

Gendry laughed, “Yes. Because I plan on you staying.”

Gendry’s sword scraped against hers as he turned her sword. He disarmed her, grabbed the sword, and, before she could do anything, crossed the swords on either side of her neck.

“I guess I win,” he smiled.

“Did you?” Arya asked. It was then that Gendry felt the pressure against his abdomen. He looked down to see a knife pressed against a vital vein.

“Where did you get that knife?”

“A lady never tells.”

Gendry laughed, “Okay, keep your secrets then.”

“You want to go again?” Arya asked, her eyes full of excitement.

Gendry smiled at her, handing her sword back to her, “As my lady wishes.”

(*&*)

“I want to renovate the queen’s office,” Arya told Gendry the next day as they walked down the hall.

“Okay. What are you going to do?”

“Well, right now it’s full of Lannister colors. I was thinking of making it a more neutral space, so that no matter who the next queen is she’ll feel comfortable.”

“I think that’s wonderful.”

“I also want to have portraits of all of the queens that have come before her, all the way back through the Targaryens.”

“All of them? What about Cersei?”

Arya shrugged, “She was a queen, wasn’t she?”

Gendry looked at her softly, “She sure was.”

(*&*)

“We’re making a list of everything we want to do,” Gendry said, swinging the door to her office open.

Arya looked up from her work, “Like what?”

“Anything. Get a piece of paper out.”

Arya smiled sarcastically as she got the parchment out of her drawer, “Oh, yes sir. Let me just drop everything to indulge you.”

“You should. I’m the prince.” Arya laughed. “First thing: I want to clean up Flea Bottom. Even our poorest should not live like that.”

Arya smiled, “I agree.”

Gendry pulled a chair over to her side of the desk and peered over her shoulder, “The second is that I want to take you horseback riding.”

“Horseback riding?”

Gendry nodded, “I hear you’re very good, so you’ll have to hold me onto mine.”

Arya laughed, “Okay, deal.”

She thought for a minute, “I want you and I to make a plan for the country. And even if I leave, you have to follow the plan.”

“Okay, put it on the list.”

Arya scribbled it down.

Gendry paused, “I want to go see Bear Island. I want to see your home.”

Arya looked at him softly. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay,” Gendry replied even quieter. It was then that Arya realized how close they were and her eyes dropped down to his lips. 

“Write it down, Arya,” Gendry said. Arya turned back to the paper with a smile on her face.

(*&*)

They were forming habits, Arya realized later. Nice habits. After breakfast, they would go on a walk and talk about what was going on in their days. At night, he would sneak into her room (no longer intensely guarded) and they would talk about how everything went that day. It was nice to have a schedule that revolved around another person. It was nice to have something to depend on.

“People are talking,” Sansa said when she entered the princess’ chambers. 

“About what?”

“You and Prince Gendry. They have noticed your relationship with him. They want to know if you will be the next queen. If you want to be the next queen.”

“And what is that to me?” Arya asked. 

“It may be nothing to you, but I need to know how to handle this. These people still think that the two of us are in competition for the throne. I realize that, at least at the start, neither of us wanted the crown, but these people see two sisters battling it out for a seat next to the future king. I need to know what to say to them. Am I telling them that you are stealing the prince from me or am I telling them that at the end of the month you’ll go back to the North?”

Arya sat on the edge of her bed and buried her head in her hands, “I don’t know. I don’t know. I need more time.”

“You have three weeks. Then your month is up. Is that not enough?”

“A month to tell if I want to spend the rest of my life with someone?”

Sansa sighed, “I get it. But most women don’t even get a month. Some women lay their eyes on their future husband the moment they are going to marry.”

“I understand that. But does that say that I need to figure myself out? Or does that mean that women are constantly put in bad situations?”

The two girls looked at each other. Sansa’s eyebrows knitted together, “I never thought about it that way.”

The door to Arya’s room slammed open. Gendry stood at the doorway out of breath, “Arya… Do you want to tell me why I just had a long and interesting talk with your mother?”

“My what?” Arya at the same time that Sansa buried her head in her hands.

“Ohhhhh. I forgot.” 

Arya turned sharply towards her, “You what?”


	14. We Can't Fix It All

Ch. 14

“M-Mother?” Arya asked, stepping into her father’s office.

Lady Catelyn seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, “Arya!”

Arya pulled her into a hug that felt unfamiliar. It had been too long since her mother had held her younger daughter in her arms. The last time they had met, there had been no hug goodbye when Arya left for Bear Island, only the barest of formalities expected from a lady towards a family member. 

Arya had missed the mother she had grown up with, but she also recognised that the mother of her memories had been warped in her mind along with her idyllic Winterfell. When she had returned for a brief period to her home, she came to the stark realization that she had been naive about her childhood. Yes, Arya had known that she had not been the best example of a lord’s daughter, which had caused some strain. Yet, when she went back years later, she realized just how much childhood had protected from reality.

When she had walked in the gates of Winterfell years later, her mother had flinched at the sword at her daughter’s side. Rickon and Bran did not know how to act around their own sister. Robb had laughed.

Arya realized that they had sent away a daughter who, at the very least, tried to act like a presentable lady. The one they had gotten back was a trained swordsman, though she had not yet been tried in battle.

Lady Catelyn had tried the whole time to get Arya to act like a proper lady. She had pushed her into dresses, waltzed her towards suiters, scolded her into talking about the proper topics, and berated her into the behavior of a lady. Arya had seethed with rage the whole time.

When Catelyn had presented Arya with a trunk of dresses to bring back to Bear Island, Arya sold them to the other ladies of the court. The ones that they could not fit into, she burned. 

The last straw had been when the Lady of the North learned that her youngest daughter had invited the butcher’s son to go back with her. Apparently, now there was one less trunk which gave him plenty of room. Catelyn had snapped when Robb told her, laughing at his sister’s indecency. 

Catelyn had spent her time trying to match Arya with someone who could handle her. The suitors she had pushed her towards had been the best contenders to find Arya a suitable match. The dresses had been to attract the men as well as the manners. No man liked their woman being better at governing than them, and so Catelyn thought it would be better if Arya did not discuss such things. She had tried to take care of her daughter. She had tried to find a bright future for her daughter, preferably one that might bring a smile to Arya’s face. 

Arya had answered by burning dresses and abhorring the suitors. Now, she had gone and invited the butcher’s boy to return with her? Gods, what was Catelyn to do to get this girl to not bring scorn to the Stark name. The butcher’s boy? The butcher’s boy?!

Catelyn thought back to the lords and ladies she had grown up with in the South. Gods, Arya would be the talk of the kingdoms. And Sansa? Sansa was set up to marry a prince, and her sister was off gallivanting with the butcher’s boy.

No. No more. Catelyn had called her daughter into her office and told Arya that her behavior was unacceptable. She sent her daughter back to Bear Island the next morning, cutting Arya’s trip a month short. Catelyn had had to pry Rickon off of Arya’s leg when he did not understand why his new sister was leaving. Arya had wiped tears from Bran’s face as she forced her own tears to stay behind her eyes.

Arya had at least had the decency to send her wild wolf ahead of her, so Catelyn did not have to deal with the beast that day. When she commented how glad she was the wolf was gone, Arya had looked her mother dead in the eyes and had said, “I was afraid you would take that family away from me as well.”

That had stung, but not as much as the suitors who had shook their heads leaving.

When Catelyn saw the butcher the next day, she asked where Micah was. The butcher told her that Nymeria had picked up Micah in the early morning before Arya left. “He’s probably halfway to Bear Island by now. It was so nice of you and Lady Arya to arrange that job for him. Arya told me the night before that you had sold some dresses to pay for his salary.”

Catelyn had tried her best to cover up the story, but it became the first legend told around the kingdoms of the wild wolfcub.

Later on, they heard of the Iron Fleet sailing towards Bear Island. Robb had called the bannerman, and Catelyn had said goodbye to her son with baited breath.

Robb had returned with a proud smile and a wild tale. He told his mother of the woman he had found still covered in blood, of the war strategist who explained how they had set the sea on fire, of the warrior who had cleaned her sword, of the governor who had given orders to help rebuild. “She hadn’t slept in two days, Mother. And yet, she was still kind and loving to everyone who needed help. She problem solved like I wish I could. It was hard for me to stand by and watch my little sister handle a horrible, bloody situation all by herself.”

Robb sat by the fire with his mother. “I think...I think maybe we misunderstood Arya.”

Lady Catelyn had kept her eyes of the flames, “I never misunderstood her. It is the rest of the world that will. This reputation, everyone man knowing she has killed, knowing she is better at their job than them...it will ruin her. It will ruin us.”

“She’s just one girl in our family, Mother,” Robb had laughed, “She can’t possibly cause that much trouble for our family.”

“Your Aunt Lyanna caused a war that toppled a great empire. Trust me, the woman can do great damage.” Catelyn looked at her son, “The woman matters too.”

Catelyn held her daughter at arm’s length. The sun in King’s Landing had done her good, adding some color to her cheeks. She was still thin, still muscular. And that bloody sword was still strapped to her side. “You’re wearing breeches around the Red Keep.”

“I do that quite often,” Arya replied, already preparing for battle.

“And Prince Gendry is okay with that?”

Arya’s eyes flashed, “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t ask him what was acceptable for me to wear.”

“Arya,” her mother scorned.

“Can we not fight?” Sansa asked.

Lady Catelyn smiled, “Of course we can.” She stepped around Arya and embraced her older daughter warmly, kissing Sansa on the cheek, “How are you? How’s Margaery and Olenna?”

Sansa smiled, “They’re good. They’re really good.”

“I’m glad. And how is Prince Gendry?” Catelyn asked.

“I think you should be asking me that, Mother.” Arya said, the green monster rearing its head again. “I believe that is how betrothals work.”

“And would you know, Arya? Or have you turned him away whenever he tried to get to know you?”

Arya almost growled, but her father interrupted her, “It’s late. How about we all retire for the night, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

Before he had even finished, Arya’s brown hair was whipping out of sight. Catelyn only sighed.

(*&*)

Arya had studied the maps of the Red Keep, so it was easy to know which hallways to take. She raced through the servant’s corridors towards the tower’s highest room. When she arrived, she had tried the door, only to find it locked. Of course it would be. They had not met here before, and he was the prince. People did not just leave the prince’s rooms unlocked.  
But the jiggle of the handle had alerted the man in the room, and when Gendry opened the door, he could not say he was surprised to see her pained face.

Gendry cupped her face in his hands, “Arya?”

“Can I be Nymeria for the night?” Gendry hesitated, searching her face. “Please,” she whispered almost too softly to be heard.

Gendry decided then that he would never deny her anything.

When he took her hand to lead her to the bed, she studied him, “I know you, right?”

Without missing a beat, Gendry nodded, “Better than anyone else.”


	15. This Changes Everything

Ch. 15

Arya sat playing with Gendry’s fingers as they laid tangled in each other and the bed clothes. He breathed a sigh as he ran his hand through her tangled hair. 

“What did you and my mother talk about?” Arya asked softly.

“What?” Gendry asked.

“You said you talked to my mother. You never said what it was about.”

Gendry laughed, “Oh, yes.” his chest vibrated against her cheek.

“What?” Arya laughed.

“She wanted to make sure that I was treating her daughter decently. That I was making sure to have an appropriate courtship.”

Arya lifted her head to look at him. She smiled devilishly as she came to straddle him. “So, me being in your bed, perfectly naked and content, would probably not be meeting her expectations.”

“I don’t believe so,” Gendry’s hands found her thighs.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I only wanted what was best for you, and I told her that you would set the limits on the relationship.”

“That probably did not please her. She thinks I would do almost anything.”

He pushed her hair away from her face, and brought his lips to her neck, “Is she wrong?”

Arya’s eyes were already closing, “Absolutely not.”

(*&*)

“You look happy,” Sansa said when she met Arya in the halls the next morning.

“Up until now we have been planning our moves. Today is implementation day. Renovations begin. Rooms are being searched through. New policies start today. It’s the beginning of a whole new reign.”

“Is that why you’re so happy?” Sansa asked coyly.

Arya stopped in the middle of the hall, “Who saw me?”

“Just Margaery, thank the gods. You need to be more careful. Who knows who else could have seen you. Gendry going to your rooms is one thing. If it looks like you are actively seeking him out….”

“Yes, yes. I understand. Now is not a good time to be sneaking.”

“Especially with Mother on the loose in the Red Keep.”

“Yes, well, hopefully I won’t have to deal with her today. I’ll be busy all day.”

“Father told her that she should shadow you today.”

“Shit!” Arya stamped her foot. “It’s implementation day! She can’t ruin implementation day!”

“Maybe she won’t!”

Arya shot Sansa a look.

Sansa rolled her eyes, “Just try explaining things to her. ‘We’re implementing this because before they did this’ or ‘This room was used for useless shit and so was that room so now we’re combining them’. Explain the changes to her. If you don’t remember, she does run her own castle. Maybe she’ll have some good ideas.”

“Maybe,” Arya sighed, “At least I wore a dress today. I have my first council meeting, and I did not want to take the time to change again.”

Sansa looked at the light blue dress that clung to her sister’s torso in a way that was almost inappropriate before falling in satin skirts to the floor. “You look good. I don’t remember that dress though.”

Arya’s cheeks blushed, “Gendry got it for me.”

Sansa’s eyebrows shot up, “Did he now?”

Arya nodded, “It was very kind of him.”

Sansa smiled devilishly, “It also shows off your tits, so there’s that.”

“Why! Lady Sansa Stark saying the word ‘tits’!”

“You can stop now.”

“Can you say that in front of Gendry? He’ll never believe it!”

“I’m walking away from you.”

(*&*)

“You never said goodbye last night,” Arya startled when her mother suddenly appeared by her side at the High Table. The fork she was holding fell to her plate with a loud crash.

“I’m so sorry. Goodnight, Mother. Good morning, Mother. Would you like a seat?” Mya got up from her place to allow Lady Catelyn her seat. Catelyn took it gratefully. Gendry turned from his conversation with his father to focus on the mother-daughter duo.

“Good morning, Lady Catelyn. I trust you slept well?” he asked.

“Much better than I had on the road. Thank you, Prince Gendry.”

“Arya told me you would be joining her for the day. I’m sure you’ll be very pleased with the change she is making,” Gendry took Arya’s hand, and Arya smiled at him.

“I’m surprised that Arya knew I would be joining her, considering she left so abruptly last night.”

Arya used her free hand to sip her tea, “I have my ways.”

“Either way,” her mother continued, “I’m looking forward to watching her today. I hear that she fought hard for her ability to make these changes.”

Arya eyed her mother.

“A fight I, unfortunately, created for her. Don’t worry too much about it, Lady Catelyn. Your daughter and I are on quite the same page these days.”

Lady Catelyn seemed to study them, for the first time noticing their joined hands. She looked up as if mystified by the day already. “I see. I look forward to seeing that.”

Arya picked up her fork with her nondominant hand, “Don’t get too excited about it. It’s just implementation day, after all.”

Lady Catelyn turned as the servants brought her a new plate, “I see.”

Arya looked down at Gendry’s hand, still grasping hers, “Can I have that hand back? I need to eat eventually.”

(*&*)

Arya and Gendry took their daily stroll through the gardens with Lady Catelyn in tow. Luckily, Margaery had seen them when they were leaving and was happy to join Catelyn to keep her distracted. Behind the two ladies hugging their hellos, Sansa caught Arya’s eye and nodded.

Gendry bent down to Arya’s ear, “Was this your sister’s doing?”

“I believe it was,” Arya replied.

Gendry grabbed her hand again, “Remind me to thank her later.”

The sun hit them as soon as they exited the Keep, the sun already warning of a blazing day. The gardeners bowed to Arya and Gendry, smiling at the young couple as they went about their walk.

“I think you were right about the lavender. It does smell better, less like the city.”

Arya hummed taking in the new plants she had asked to be planted. Some were for appearances, others were for Hot Pie. He had always wanted spices freshly grown for the kitchens. Now, he could have all that he liked.

“What is today?”

“There’s a meeting Lord Rykker is having to go over the new waste policies. We wanted to make sure everyone was comfortable enough with them that no one could see a reason to do away with them at the end of the month.”

“I don’t ever see you changing those policies again,” Gendry replied coyly.

Arya smiled to herself as she took in the garden, “That should help the kingdoms considerably, both in charity and in the budget. If we do as well as we think we will, we could put the savings towards the debt and pay it off in ten years.”

“Wow, that’s an accomplishment, Arya.”

Arya hummed, “We’re also consolidating some rooms that are used for storage. With those we can create more servant’s quarters. Right now several servants are homeless, and that will give them a place to stay.

“Renovations on the queen’s office starts, as well as remodelling for the royal family’s suites. During that renovation, some of Varys’ ‘little birds’ nests will be sealed up and your privacy will be more secure.”

“I’m sure we’ll appreciate that in the future.”

Arya shot him a look, “And the training grounds will be sown with grass to help with the mud.”

“You just don’t like getting dirty when we spar.”

Arya glanced back at her mother before leaning closer to Gendry, “We both know I’m okay with getting a little...dirty.”

Gendry stole a kiss from her before she could lean away, causing her to laugh.

“Lady Arya,” a voice called. Arya looked forward to find Lord Rykker waiting for her.

“Duty calls, I guess,” she said. “I’ll see you later?”

“Absolutely. The usual place this time.”

Arya smiled, “Thank you.”

She walked back to the ladies, “Mother, it’s time to get everything started. I can come find you later if you do not wish to leave.”

Lady Catelyn shook her head, “Oh no, Lady Margaery and I have already made plans for tea later. We can finish up talking there.”

Arya already felt her energy draining, “Excellent.”

“We would invite you, dear Arya,” Margaery said, “But I thought your mother would like something to do during the council meeting, so it’s during that.”

Arya nodded, “That was very kind of you, Margaery.”

“Why would she not be able to join us during the council meeting?” Lady Catelyn asked.

Margaery took Lady Catelyn’s arm, “Oh, because your dear daughter has swindled herself a place on the council. The first lady ever to sit amongst the advisers. Isn’t that lovely?”

Lady Catelyn looked thoughtful and scared, “Indeed.”


	16. A Reversal of Demands

Ch. 16

“Over here we’re going to put in some bricks to seal up the peephole,” Arya showed her mother the thin wall behind which Varys’ little birds had most likely seen Arya and Gendry the night before.

“We want to make sure that, at the very least, the royal family’s rooms are secure from prying eyes.” Arya moved to the other wall of the prince’s chambers, “And over here there is a servant’s corridor, but if you stand at the end of it you can hear everything going on up here. We’re going to pad the walls to make it harder to hear.”

“And how is the king paying for these renovations?”

“Well, the human cost of it is free. The servants quarters that I showed you are much too big for our needs. The builders doing the renovations will stay for the renovations as payment for their work. As for the materials, Gendry talked to his old master from the forge, he and a couple other merchants are going to give us the materials. In exchange, those merchants will be our go to for other orders, and we’ll recommend them to others travelling.”

“That’s quite a deal. This big renovation for no money.”

Arya shrugged, “Mama Bear always told me that if we pay people in money it’s the easy way out. If we pay them with deeds, then usually they’ll prosper more. So, I made deals where I could. Gendry was the one that thought about going to his master.”

Lady Catelyn looked around the prince’s chambers, “Yes. The bastard prince.”

Arya sighed, falling to sit on the bed. She tried to keep her mind from going to the acts she had just shared with her bastard prince. “If there is something you would like to say, then please, Mother: say it.”

Lady Catelyn stared at her daughter, “First, it was the odd obsession with Jon, a bastard. Then, you ran away with Micah. Now, the only suitor to ever catch your eye is the bastard who just happened to become prince.”

“Jon was my brother, and, I told you, Micah is my friend, nothing more. So, if you’re implying that I have a type--”

“You are attracted to people who are completely wrong for you, Arya.” Lady Catelyn seemed desperate, “You cannot tell me that you would love to be here. You cannot tell me that you love that man.”

“Which man? You’re implying that I have three.”

“Gendry, you sarcastic girl.”

Arya shifted on the bed, “Do you remember what you told me when the last suitor left? What was his name?”

“Ramses. You had Nymeria rip one of his dogs apart.”

“Yes, him. Do you remember what you said?”

Lady Catelyn thought, then she sighed, “No, I don’t.”

“You said I could let love blossom. You said I would fall in love with him, the way you and Father did.”

“And what was so wrong about that?” her mother asked defensively.

“Nothing,” Arya said. Catelyn seemed shocked at the concession. Arya shrugged, “Nothing was wrong with the advice, Mother. It just... didn’t happen with Ramses.”

Lady Catelyn sat down at Gendry’s table. shocked. Her hand went to her mouth, “Oh, gods. You love him. You love Prince Gendry.”

Arya looked down, scared at being this vulnerable around her mother. When she looked up, she saw tears in her mother’s eyes. Arya got up, rushing to her mother, “Mother, I don’t understand. I thought you would be…”

Arya stopped, realizing that she did not know how she thought her mother would react. Did she think she would have been happy? Understanding? Mad? Smug? Did she even know how she wanted her mother to react. She had not talked to her mother face-to-face since before the Iron Fleet came to her shores. She did not even know her mother, much less know what she wanted from this woman. She had been without a mother for so long, she did not know what it was like to truly have one.

Yes, she had had Mama Bear, Lady Dacey. But while Dacey had been comforting and loving, she had also managed Arya with the demeanor of a general or an adviser. She had never crossed the line of being a true mother. She had never surpassed the glowing aura of mothering the memories of Lady Catelyn gave off when Arya remembered her childhood.

No, Arya did not know what she wanted from her mother. She probably never would. 

Lady Catelyn’s hand brushed through her daughter’s hair, “Oh, darling. I’m happy. I’m so happy for you. The first time anyone gets a taste of love, my gods, it’s like the world opens up. I’m thrilled that you get to experience that. But, love, as your mother I am so scared for you. I’m terrified.”

“Terrified?”

“Yes!” Lady Catelyn grabbed her daughter’s face in her hands, “My gods, Arya. Do you really want to live amongst all of these snakes? Do you want to worry about people spying on you while you're in your bedchambers? Do you want your relationship with Gendry to be placed on a pedestal and examined every which way? 

“Marrying a lord is one thing, you can get some privacy in a far-off castle. But here? And the restrictions. You were always the child that I could not get to sit still, and yet you would have to be the example to all the other ladies. You would have to be prim and proper, and….”

Arya nodded, “I know, Mother. I know about all of that.”

“It’s dangerous here, Arya. The last queen was deposed and beheaded.”

“I know.”

“One wrong move and you could die. Tomorrow. And from what I’ve heard you have already had some close calls--”

“I know, Mother.”

Lady Catelyn shook her head, “No. No, you don’t. You don’t know how dangerous it is here. You won’t until it’s too late.”

“Mother, Gendry and I are making moves to limit any danger here, I promise. We’re giving me ways to develop the queen’s powers. And then I’ll be one of the most dangerous things in this place.”

Lady Catelyn’s face went grey, “That’s why he gave you the spot on the council.”

“Yes.”

“My gods, Arya. Have you not thought of the position that would put you in? You would be the only woman who really knew what was going on in the kingdoms. Men would see that, and they would do anything to get that information.”

Arya froze, “What do you mean?”

“They would see your sex and think you the weakest link. They would try to take you. They would torture you or use you against Gendry. 

“On top of that, many, many men would see you as a threat to a man’s place in society, to their place in society. They would see the council chair you sat in as stolen from them by you, not given to you by Gendry. And once you are a threat to a man’s place, they will charge you on some absurd crime and slit your throat.”

It was silent in the prince’s room for a time.

Arya shook her head, whispering, “I never thought of it like that.”

Lady Catelyn wiped her eyes, “My darling, I know a woman’s place in life has never appealed to you, but being anything else is not safe. If you can’t fit into that role, then it is best that you live outside of the public eye.” 

She captured her daughter’s hands in hers, “I am thrilled that you love Gendry. If he were a lord, I would already be getting your wedding dress together. But, considering his position and the fragility of it, please, I am begging you, do not marry him.”


	17. Some Flames Burn

Ch. 17

“Hey,” Gendry greeted when he saw her walking up to him. He had been talking to his Uncle Stannis in front of the council room but broke the conversation off to meet her halfway. His smile was brighter than the forge’s fire as he gazed down at her. “How was your mother today? I’m sure she was very proud of the work you are doing.”

Arya smiled slightly as she eyed the council room, still wondering if she should go in, “Yeah, she was great.”

Lady Catelyn had been proud. Arya had only managed to take her mother to half of the places Arya had worked to organize and renovate, but her mother had told her that they were all big accomplishments. Then, Lady Catelyn had pleaded with her daughter to go to tea with her, Sansa, and the Tyrells.

“The restrictions on a lady...some of them are there for our protection, Arya. Sometimes rocking the boat can have deadly consequences. You can change the kingdoms more outside of the council room than in. Just come to tea.”

Yet, Arya had imagined the look on Gendry’s face when she did not show up and the frown creasing in her father’s eyes. She had left her mother in Sansa’s capable hands when she left for the council meeting.

“Hey,” Gendry looked concerned, bringing Arya’s face to look at his, “Whatever she said to you, don’t let it get to you. Your work has been amazing, and I’m amazingly, stupendously proud of you.”

He brushed her hair back from her shoulder and smiled at her, “We’ll go into the meeting. We’ll get you up-to-date, and we’ll start our plan. Right?”

Arya smiled back, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Just when Gendry took her hand to lead her into the room, a servant came running up the corridor.

“Lady Arya! Lady Arya!” 

“Madeline?” Arya asked, walking towards the frazzled servant.

The maid grabbed onto Arya and started pulling her the way she had come. “There was a fire! In the kitchens!”

“Arya?” Gendry asked as Arya was pulled away from the council room.

Arya looked back and saw the other members of the council peek their heads out of the room. 

“Is everything okay?” Arya heard her father ask as she was pulled around the corner.

Arya picked up her gown to run alongside Madeline, “What is going on? Was anyone hurt? Was there damage?”

Madeline turned the corridor and ushered Arya into the kitchens. Where Sansa was standing in a perfectly fine, though empty, kitchens. Arya looked back at the oven room where she and Hot Pie had hatched their plan. The table, the chairs, everything was as it was.

“Sansa,” Arya gasped, “What the hell is going on?”

Sansa just turned to Madeline, “Not a word about this, remember.”

Madeline smiled and nodded. She turned to Arya, “Pardon, Lady Arya.”

She turned out of the kitchens and closed the door, sealing the sisters in the kitchens alone.

“What’s wrong?” Arya asked.

“Mother told me about what you all talked about in the prince’s rooms,” Sansa said. “I wanted to give you an opportunity to get out of the meeting.”

Arya shifted, “What do you mean?”

“If you were to look in the hospital wing, you would find two kitchen staff who are being treated for minimal burning. Madeline regularly comes into the kitchens around this time, and she has the reputation of being a little...dramatic.

“So, there are two stories that we can tell. One is that there was a small incident that Madeline took out of proportion and went to find you. Not a big thing, and something that you can clearly manage in five minutes and go back to your meeting. The other story is that there was a medium size fire, not enough to cause any real damage, but something that would definitely take you a long time to manage. And that is why you had to miss your meeting.”

“You think that mother’s right, don’t you?” Arya asked quietly.

Sansa looked down, “I think we underestimated the danger you are putting yourself in, but if you are willing to take that risk, then I am with you completely. I figured...I figured that we could sit this meeting out, and we could figure a plan out later.”

“Did she just tell you about how she did not want me to go to the council meetings?”

Sansa was silent for a minute before she nodded her head. At the crushed look on her sister’s face, Sansa hurried to take Arya into her arms.

Arya’s eyes burned with what she refused to believe were tears as she buried her face in her sister’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know I loved him until I told her. And then, by that time, she was telling me it was too dangerous to love him. I-I don’t….I don’t understand.” Arya’s breath was heaving, and her legs tried to give out. Sansa supported her weight long enough to sink them to the dirty ground of the kitchens.

Sansa got her sister into a sitting position before wiping the hair away from her sister’s red face.

“I don’t, I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Sansa asked.

“I love him.” Arya said softly. She shook her head, tears still streaming down her face, “How the fuck did that happen?”

Sansa tried not to laugh.

“I mean,” Arya continued, “He’s an asshole.” Sansa laughed, but Arya was serious, “Really! Have you heard the way he speaks to some people? And how he acted to you before I came? He’s an asshole. And he can’t write. I mean...he can, but one time he tried to leave me a note and it took me forever to decipher it. And he can barely use a fork. Which isn't his fault, but sometimes it gets a little disgusting. And let’s not forget the time that he actually cornered me. I mean, now that I look back at it, it was kind of sexy to be pressed up against the door like that, but really it was apprehensible.”

Sansa nodded, still laughing “That was pretty bad.”

Arya nodded, smiling, “See?

“And yet, somewhere in there, he managed to sneak into my chest and steal my heart without even noticing. It’s been two weeks, two fucking weeks, and I’m already crying over him like a blubbering idiot because I can’t marry him.”

It suddenly got silent.

“I can’t marry him, Sansa. Not without putting my life in danger. His position on the throne--”

“Is getting stronger, Arya,” Sansa interjected, “More and more people support him everyday.”

“They won’t with a woman like me by his side.” Arya shook her head, “That’s the other thing. If I stay, I put his life in danger as well.”

Sansa studied her sister, “We can figure something out. There...there has to be something.”

Arya shook her head. She gathered herself up, wiping off the dress Gendry had given her. When she got to the door of the kitchens, she turned to Sansa who was still sitting on the floor, “I’m going to write to Lyanna tonight. I’ll tell her that I’m coming home in two weeks. I won’t be the reason that Gendry loses his throne. He deserves to be king.”

As she left, Sansa couldn’t help but think of how regal her sister looked in that moment in the glow of the hall and a tear-streamed face.


End file.
